And in the Darkness Bind Them
by PennedFF
Summary: She remembers the sickening sway of the rope as it lowered them down into the shadows and all she could think was: "My sister will never see the sky or the grass or the sea. My sister will be born with nightmares." Talia has a sister and only she knows what's best for her. Bane/OC, Talia/Barsad. Appearances by Ra's, Bruce Wayne and John Blake. COMPLETED
1. Talia

**A/N: **This story was written in sort of a crazed haze. I woke up one day and needed to write it. Two days later, here it is. There are things I don't like about it and maybe some of the tenses have gotten switched around so feel free to point issues out to me and I'll fix them, if need be. I've read and re-read this thing way too many times at this point and just needed to post it already! There's a lot I edited out so hopefully I got most of the little mistakes.

Basically, this story poses the question: what if Talia had a sister?

And remember, this is from only one perspective. Not everything a character experiences or thinks is necessarily the truth. And with that- happy reading?

**And in the Darkness Bind Them**

**Talia**

**I.**

She was not yet five when her and her mother were lowered into the pit. All she knew was that her father was gone because he had done something Very Bad, that he had been Sent Away and that they were to take his punishment.

Not yet five, just barely able to read the curving lines and sharp angles on the pages of the books in her grandfather's sprawling library, and her last day in the sun had been spent in tears because she couldn't understand why they were being cast into the darkness, why she had to leave her toys and her house and her _jaddah_ and _jiddoh._

She remembers clinging tightly to her mother but not being able to wrap her arms around the swollen belly of her stomach. She remembers the sickening sway of the rope as it lowered them down into the shadows and all she could think was-

_My sister will never see the sky or the grass or the sea._

_My sister will be born with nightmares._

**II.**

Talia knows her name means _lamb_ but she is not at all meek or mild.

The anguished screams of the mad are her lullaby and she wakes up to the sight of bars over her bed. She grits her teeth and hisses at those who would dare to come close to their crude home. She shrieks like a banshee when hands try to grab at her or her mother or-

_Her name means gift, my gift, my sister._

-little Atiya, and she cuts at their hands with broken pieces of stone and wood.

She knows she is growing hard like stone, her heart heavy with fury and despair, but she finds solace in her little doll-like sister.

Atiya is smaller than Talia was at her age and at three years old she has barely uttered a word, even though Talia and her mother and the doctor whisper to her constantly. She is pale and quiet but she smiles at Talia as if she can do no wrong and reaches for _her_, not their mother, when she is cold or hungry or frightened.

Atiya almost never cries and never complains. She doesn't know what it means not to be hungry, nor does she know the peace of silence or the comfort of warm clothing. She watches Talia with her large blue eyes, darker than their father's eyes, and follows her with noiseless steps as if she is afraid of losing sight of her.

Talia feels like a queen at the look of awe on Atiya's face when she tells her of birds and flowers and clouds, of hot soup and bread, crisp apples and juicy plums. She tells her sister, who is too thin, too small and too quiet, of the day when they will escape and Atiya always tightens her grip on Talia's hand when she whispers-

"We'll be free. I will set us free and we will set this place and all the monsters in it on fire."

**III.**

One evening, Atiya disappears from sight and Talia nearly goes mad.

She doesn't scream her sister's name because it would alert the fiends beyond the bars that there is fresh meat to be had. Their mother weeps helplessly and the doctor does nothing aside from frown, so Talia knows that it is up to her to bring Atiya back, to keep her safe.

But in the small confines of their cage, there is nowhere to hide, nowhere to go. She looks everywhere but there is nothing but crumbling stone and steel bars. Her sister, her fragile, tiny sister, isn't amongst the dirty rags and broken furniture, and Talia feels the walls of her world collapse.

Atiya is gone for nearly an hour when she suddenly reappears. She grins at Talia and waves and it is as if Talia is consumed with wrath when Atiya tells her what she has done.

She had tucked herself away in a small, almost insignificant hole in the far corner of their home, almost hidden by the cot she sleeps in. Talia finds out later that Atiya had spent nights digging with rocks to make herself a little hiding place, too tight even for Talia to fit into.

Talia is infuriated. Not because Atiya hid from her but because of the rage, the absolute fear, that her absence had caused.

"Never ever do that again, not without telling me," Talia screams. She shakes Atiya by her shoulders. "You don't leave. You don't leave me ever!"

She slaps Atiya with the palm of her hand so hard that she falls to the ground and Talia instantly feels remorse.

_Oh, my darling. I'm so sorry._

Atiya is still more baby than child and it's clear that an ugly, horrible bruise will form over her white skin, stretched out tightly over the delicate bones of her cheeks. She looks up at Talia and her mouth trembles but she says nothing.

Before their mother can pull her away, Talia throws herself down, wraps her arms around Atiya and begs her forgiveness. She cries into her sister's hair and promises never to hurt her again.

Even as she is taken away to be punished for striking Atiya, Talia can hear her sister's soft, sweet voice say-

"Sister."

It is the first word Atiya has uttered in months and Talia thinks it's worth the beating their mother gives her.

**IV.**

It begins to worry Talia that Atiya is getting older.

There is no room in their lives to be arrogant, no opportunity for vanity, but Talia looks at her sister's face and feels dread.

Despite the shadows, despite the lack of food and the luxury of toiletries that are becoming more and more like dreams than memories, Atiya is growing up _pretty._

She knows the other prisoners notice this too and their taunts, their disgusting words, are now directed towards her baby sister. Talia doesn't care about her own appearance and she shaves her hair under the doctor's careful guidance to keep off lice and other irritations.

Her useless, ineffectual mother though… _She_ keeps her own hair long and insists on keeping Atiya's hair as well.

"I want to be like Talia," Atiya says, on the rare day that she uses her voice.

Talia feels pride that her sister chooses to speak her name and she tilts her chin up and beckons for the child to come to her. But their mother holds her back and shakes her head, running her fingers through Atiya's fine, dark hair. It curls around her cheeks in gentle wisps and Atiya ducks her head, disappointed.

Later, when their mother sleeps, Talia teaches Atiya how to wrap her face with a cloth. Talia's heart aches that such beauty, that her _sister's_ beauty, has to stay hidden. They practice until only Atiya's bright eyes are visible and her mouth and nose have enough room to take in breath.

"Just for now," Talia says, running a light hand over the place where Atiya's brow is hidden, "Just until we can escape."

**V.**

The doctor, the drug-addled _idiot_, forgets to lock the door to their cage and Talia runs in panic. She grips her sister's hand so tightly and runs so fast that if Atiya trips then she will be dragged along on the ground.

She can hear her mother's screams and she ducks under the hands of the other prisoners-

_Monsters, all of them!_

-unsure of where she is going. She only knows that she must protect Atiya, that they must get away at all costs.

Suddenly, strong arms take hold of her and she clutches at her sister, tucking her legs in and wrapping herself around the smaller body.

_If they try to take her, if they try to kill me to get to her, I'll break her neck first._

But no one tries to hurt them.

Instead, Talia feels herself being shielded and she knows, with sudden clarity, that they have found a protector amidst the madness.

**VI.**

His name is Bane.

He is young, maybe only a little past his teens, but he is strong. He and a small group of men keep Talia and Atiya safe from the others and for the first time, Talia can almost believe that goodness outside of Atiya can exist in the pit.

It takes a while for Talia to trust him with Atiya and at first she snarls and scratches at him out of habit when he tries to feed them. But soon enough, Talia can see that Bane would never, ever harm them.

"She is eight," Talia says, when Bane asks how old Atiya is and she knows he frowns because Atiya is so, so small.

"She doesn't speak," Bane says, worried. "It's been weeks. Is she…"

"Atiya only speaks when she has something to say," Talia says fiercely. "She's quiet but she's not stupid. She can hide and stay still so that you can't find her. She's never been outside, she's never felt the warmth of the sun or had a real bed or tasted honey but she's not stupid. Never think ill of my sister or I'll kill you when you turn your back."

Bane smiles at that but has the courtesy to pass a hand over his mouth.

"She is very lucky to have you," he tells her.

Talia smiles back at him only when Atiya steps forward, wrapping her arms around her waist, and looks up at Talia.

Bane helps her wrap the cloth around her face and finds her fresh rags when the ones she has on get dirty. She thanks him by tapping him on the hand and her eyes crinkle at the corners when he tells her she's most welcome. But that look, that expression of complete and utter love, is reserved only for Talia.

"I know that," Atiya says, her eyes filled with adoration.

"Don't you think I know that?"

**VII.**

It comes in the night, the fever, the raging horrible fire that sweeps through the little girl's body. There is sickness in the air but Talia cares not for the others who have become victims of this _plague._

It is only a miracle that Talia does not succumb to it but she knows that, despite the years in captivity, she is stronger and sturdier than Atiya.

Bane rocks her in his arms for hours because Talia's arms are too weak to carry her sister and she watches with increasing horror as the once bright eyes grow glassy and pale skin becomes nearly gray. The days pass and she hears her sister's breath go in and out with great effort. She sheds hot, shameful tears at each shallow rise and fall of her chest.

"Tell me," she says to Bane as he hums a song to soothe Atiya, "tell me she'll get better. Tell me she'll live."

Bane runs a thumb over her sister's sunken cheek but says nothing. Talia knows that he gives up more than half of his food for the both of them but Atiya barely eats now, too weak even to hold her head up for a sip of water.

"You're our protector," Talia says, grabbing hold of his arm. "You have to save her. I can't watch her die. Not here, in this hell. _Please save her._"

"If she lives through this, she'll be stronger than the both of us," Bane murmurs. Atiya gasps for breath and her eyes flutter at the sound of their voices. She reaches out blindly and he takes hold of her hand, letting her fingers curl around his.

It reminds Talia of when Atiya was still an infant, the toothless happy little smiles she would give when Talia made faces at her. The memory makes her grit her teeth and want to hit something.

"You said if," Talia says. "You should have said _when_."

Bane hesitates and then without looking away from Atiya says quietly, "She is very frail, Talia. Even if she were aboveground, it would be a hard battle. Grown men have fought against this and lost."

_It is not acceptable._

Talia pushes herself forward and looks down at Atiya's face. They have left it uncovered and her dark hair is matted to her skin with sweat and dirt and tears.

It is the face of an angel. A broken, weary angel but still, nothing of this world.

"I am your sister," she commands Atiya. "You listen to me. You do what I tell you. You get better. You _fight._ You don't ever leave me, remember? You are not allowed!"

Something bright and _alive_ flares up in Atiya's eyes at the directive and Talia feels relief. Her sister never disobeys her and she will not now, even at her weakest.

More days pass and Atiya gets better but Talia knows the time has come for action.

Atiya will not survive another illness.

She walks with shaky legs now, even when she leans against Talia for support, and stares listlessly at the clumsily-fashioned toys Bane has made for them. The doctor-

_Careless idiot. _

-tells Bane that Atiya's recovery will be slow, that her body is healing though at a snail's pace, but Talia can no longer watch helplessly as her sister fights with all the effort her little body can muster to simply _live_. Bane tells her to be patient, that Atiya will stand on her own again.

One day.

_I've waited too long. I'll find our father, and then we'll be free of this place forever and you'll see that all the stories I told you about the world above are true. _

_I'll hear you laugh loudly for once and you won't have to be afraid of being heard. I'll teach you how to yell and run and skip. You'll grow brown with the sun and your belly will always be full. _

_And you'll never, ever, ever have to hide your face again._

_I'll save us both._

Talia knows she must go.

**VIII.**

Talia leaves the day Bane kills a man.

The man tried to grab Talia while she slept. It is only by virtue of the rags that she uses as a pillow that Talia was able to run to safety, the man having grabbed them instead of her. Bane and his men rip him apart like dogs but Talia knows in her heart that the time has come.

But there is only _one_ way out; only _one_ chance for the both of them.

"I'm going to leave," Talia tells Bane, when the chaos abates. "I'm ready. I have to find our father or anyone who will come."

She tells Bane, "You must help me."

Bane sighs deeply but nods. He looks weary and there is still blood caked under his fingernails. They have spoken of this before and now he no longer argues with her, no longer insists that he go too or that she take Atiya.

They both know if one of them slips, Atiya will have no chance.

"You mean _us_," Atiya says, stirring from her place in his arms. She looks at Talia and her lips stretch into a wide smile that breaks Talia's heart. The shadows of her illness linger on her face. It has aged her beyond her years and Talia mourns the loss of her little baby Atiya.

Atiya says, "We'll try to climb the wall then. You first and then me after."

When Talia only looks at her, she becomes confused.

"I'm lighter though," Atiya says slowly, studying Talia's face. "Should I go first?"

Bane puts a hand on her back soothingly but Atiya begins to struggle, staring at Talia with growing realization. "You can't leave me-"

"I'll come back, my darling, I would never abandon you to this place, I swear-"

"-here alone, you can't go without me, you can't!"

"-that I'll come back for you," Talia finishes. She reaches for her sister and then stops herself when Bane pulls Atiya back and shakes his head at Talia. "I'll come back for you."

Her sister, whose voice hardly ever rises above a whisper, begins to _wail._

"We need to go now," Bane says over her cries. He carries Atiya even as she shrieks in his ear and tries to claw at his face, and hands her over to one of his men to protect.

As Talia begins the long journey up the wall, she hears the other prisoners attack Bane- retribution for the murder of their fellow monster- and she forces herself not to look down or lose her focus.

She is driven by desperation, by hopelessness, by her sister's sure death. If she fails, there is no hope left for her. If she fails, Bane will grow weak someday, the hearts of his men may change with time and her sister will die without ever having lived.

_I cannot fail. _

Towards the end, as Talia stands up on the narrow edge of rock and looks up at the ledge just beyond reach she hears her sister's voice-

"Sister!"

Talia jumps.

**IX.**

Talia is twelve when she leaves the pit.

She is nineteen when she comes back.

**X.**

Her father's men drop down into the hell she once called home and bring death.

Talia fights alongside them, having earned her place in the League of Shadows, and searches frantically for Atiya and Bane. She knows, even as she drives her knife into the chest of one man and slashes at another's throat, that the others are searching too.

_He will be around twenty-three or twenty-four,_ Talia informed the men when they were planning their return. _Tall, strong build but slender. Short, dark blonde hair, gray blue eyes. He is handsome, oddly so for a dweller of the pit. _

Her voice had thickened when she spoke of Atiya and she remembers the sheen in their father's eyes as she described the daughter he had yet to meet-

_Atiya will be small- likely still as thin as a child even though she'll be sixteen now. Her hair is dark and her eyes are blue, a richer hue than mine or my father's own. She covers her face so only her eyes show. _

It had only taken a look for Ra's to know that Talia was his missing child and now she could see her father making his way through the carnage to find Atiya.

Nearby, Talia hears a familiar voice cry in pain- one of her father's men- and she runs towards him to help. He is staggering out of an opened cell, coughing and clawing at his face and she can see bright red rashes blooming over his skin.

"Calm yourself!" she orders him, before rushing into the cell, ready to fight.

What she finds pushes all the breath out of her body. The fighting around her seems to fade into nothing.

_My darling._

It is her _beloved_, her _sister_.

She is still thin, yes, but Talia was wrong in thinking that she wouldn't grow any bigger than a child.

In her covered hands are traces of powder and Talia understands in a split second that Atiya has done something to the man to protect herself. Not by brute force or by the edge of a weapon but through cunning.

Atiya has grown up.

Talia's chest fills with pride and love and a fierce, angry sort of joy. Sounds and smells bubble up to the surface of her consciousness again and she rushes forward with her arms outstretched.

"Atiya!" she cries, "Atiya, I'm here. I came back for you! Father is here and we came for you!"

Her sister's eyes widen and she jerks back as Talia grabs her and clutches her tightly. She fits neatly in her arms and she catalogs the changes in Atiya, even as she weeps. Talia is still taller than her, still sturdier in form, but Atiya's heart beats more strongly now and her breath no longer rattles in her lungs.

She is drawn away by their father, by _Ra's_, and she watches as her sister is engulfed in his arms.

Atiya remains silent throughout, staring at them with an almost bewildered expression.

"What is it, sister?" Talia asks, passing her hands over Atiya's face, her cheeks, her lips. Her father checks her arms and shoulders for wounds and the look on his face is beyond words. "Are you hurt? Are you in pain? Did father's man hurt you by accident?"

Atiya shakes her head and then gestures behind her. Talia notes the body lying on a cot in the shadows and realizes that Atiya wasn't just defending herself.

She looks at Talia and then back at Ra's and says in a quiet, low voice:

"Please help Bane."

**XI.**

Talia learns what she can about the years Atiya spent alone with Bane in the pit.

_I tried to reach you as fast as I could,_ Talia explains to her, on the day they arrive home, the words spilling from her lips like tears. _But it took me so long to find father and even longer to find my way back. But I knew you were waiting for me. I dreamed about our future together._

_Tell me, darling, tell me everything now._

In her halting, hesitant voice, Atiya tells her.

She speaks of how she had taken care of Bane after the prisoners tore at his face. She had, with the help of his men, watched over him and tried to take away the pain from his disfigurement. She learned from the doctor how to mix chemicals to lessen Bane's pain; she taught herself how to create things that would burn and blister human flesh, blind eyes and fill a man's lungs so he couldn't breathe.

"Bane told me to hide when your men… the League of Shadows, first came," Atiya says. She looks exhausted, wan and weary, but Talia marvels at the gentle curve of her sister's mouth, of the deep, dark blue of her eyes. "But how could I leave him to a sure death?"

Talia hears the words her Atiya doesn't say.

_I was ready to die with our protector._

"And my little doll becomes the shield," Talia says with pride. "My Atiya, the brilliant healer. Atiya, the death dealer."

**XII.**

Clean and fed, Atiya is glorious.

Talia cannot help her joy at the sight of her sister as she moves down the hallways of the compound, and she takes delight in curling her arm around Atiya's shoulders and walking with her through the training yards of their new home.

It took months for Atiya to grow accustomed to the sun, filtered as it is in the snowy climate of the mountains, but now she can walk without flinching away from the light. She still eats too little, forgetting sometimes to take her meals, and hasn't yet stopped being amazed at the soft bed and the clean clothes she's been given.

Yet, while she has her own quarters, Talia often finds her asleep outside her room curled up on the floor with only her sweater for warmth. She knows it's because Atiya is not used to being alone. To not hearing voices or sounds around her at all times.

She is a silent thing, and even the men of the League startle when Atiya seemingly appears out of thin air beside them. Her steps make no sound and she moves carefully, watching everything with the wide, cautious eyes of something that once considered itself prey.

Though she is not trained in the League, she is still _of_ them. Talia and Ra's understand that Atiya would never be strong enough to fight physically but the League of Shadows does not rely solely on physical strength. She is under the shaman's tutelage now, learning how to heal and harm, to soothe and slaughter.

"At our father's sides, we shall rule all of this," Talia says to her as they walk. "We will cleanse the world and purge evil where it festers. And our children, and our children's children will be heirs to our legacy."

At this, Atiya frowns. "Are you…" she trails off, gesturing to her stomach and Talia laughs.

"Ah, no," she says. "Though there is someone."

She stops and Atiya stops with her, looking curiously at a man that Talia points out in the training circle some distance away.

"Barsad." Talia says his name like a charm. She ducks her head, a trained fighter transformed into a blushing girl. "He is a good man. Loyal. Worthy of my affections. I met him as I searched for our father and he cared for me all that time."

Atiya smiles at Talia. Her smiles are so few and rare that Talia hoards them like a miser and his coins.

"I'm glad, sister," Atiya says earnestly. "You deserve to be happy."

Talia looks back at where Barsad is and sees Bane training beside him.

Bane too has thrived in the League of Shadows. He is a skilled fighter and she's seen him take down a dozen of Ra's men with seemingly little effort. Bane wears a mask to help dull the ever-constant pain but the shaman's drugs have helped him grow big and fast and powerful.

Now that they are all free to live out of the shadows, Talia can see Bane's true potential. In the time since his arrival, the other men have grown to see him as a leader, consider him the de facto head of the League when Ra's or Talia are away. Though he is strong now, able to break a man's back with just his hands, he treats her sister with such delicacy and care it makes something in Talia settle.

_And our children, and our children's children will be heirs to our legacy._

She turns back to Atiya and runs her fingertips over her cheek. Talia is considered beautiful but Atiya surpasses her by far. She remembers Bane's face from before, his full lips and his high cheekbones, and smiles when she thinks of how lovely her sister's children will be.

"So do you," Talia says, linking their arms.

It will only be a short time until Atiya is fully a woman but they have time on their side now. Atiya will mature, and then her and Bane will come together as they should, and Talia's dreams of a large family- a _legacy_, will come to fruition. Atiya will have Bane and Talia will have Barsad and she will never be alone again.

She will be with her sister always.

"You deserve to be happy too."

**XIII.**

The years pass and Talia secures her place at the right hand of her father. Together, they gather the strongest, most devout men and bring justice to the darkest corners of the world.

Atiya grows, _blooms_, under her guiding hand. She is now the League's shaman and chemist, helping them craft intricate displays to shock and strike fear into their targets. The men respect her and Ra's is delighted and proud of his daughter's talent.

Yet Talia can sense a growing discontent in her sister.

"We purify so that good can have room to grow," Talia reminds her one day as Atiya works in her makeshift lab. Talia watches her sister's deft hands as she prepares an explosive for the League's next mission. "Without pruning, the weeds will overcome the land. Some things need to be destroyed for the good of the forest."

Atiya pauses and looks up, head tilted to the side.

"You speak of human lives as if they are mere plants," she says. She sighs and looks away, troubled. "Haven't we seen enough destruction? Isn't there enough death in the world without our hand; must we add to it?"

It is an old argument but it reassures Talia. She is the oak and her sister is the flower; she is used to being strong for Atiya.

"You are so soft-hearted," Talia says. She gets up from her seat and reaches out for her sister. Atiya goes to her easily, resting her head on her shoulder. "Fine. I won't speak of our purpose anymore today- I'm sure you get enough of that at meals with father. Let us speak of happier things. Like your future."

She feels Atiya stiffen beside her and Talia runs her hand over her hair as she did when they were still children. "What do you mean?"

"Do you notice how Bane looks at you, my darling?" Talia says, smiling indulgently. "He and Barsad are father's strongest fighters now and yet he follows your every whim and fancy like a puppy. Isn't it sweet, Atiya?"

"I… I don't…" Atiya falters. She draws away from Talia and she is pleased to see that Atiya's cheeks are flushed a bright pink. She looks down at her hands and shakes her head. "He's my friend. Our protector."

"I don't need a protector anymore." Talia watches her sister's face. "But Bane will be yours always. We owe him our lives, wouldn't you agree? We're bound to him because of it. Have you ever asked what would make him happy? What he sees when he thinks of the future?"

"No." Atiya keeps her eyes down and Talia waits a beat before putting her hand on her shoulder and squeezing lightly but firmly. Her shy sister needs encouragement, after all.

Just a little push in the right direction.

"You should. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised."

**XIV.**

Dante is one of Ra's new recruits.

Talia hates him.

He is dark-eyed and solemn, slim but quick and deadly on his feet. His family was killed by a group of men, one of which was spurned by his sister, and he is the only survivor of that horror.

Ra's begins to train him and Talia can't help but notice that Atiya always manages to be outside when they are there. It would be fine, just fine, if that was all it was. After all, Atiya isn't blind and Talia can admit that Dante, with his boyish good looks, is nice enough to look at.

But what she will not stand for are the moments that happen when Atiya thinks no one notices.

A touch of the hand, a smile, softly-spoken words in a dark corner of the corridor- it all feels like a betrayal.

Talia will not stand for it any longer when she realizes Atiya has taken to locking her door at night.

"He is a good match for Atiya," their father says when Talia demands that he send Dante away. "And he believes in our cause. He has already taken the lives of so many evil men, Talia- why would I send him away? Atiya is a woman now and she is smart enough to know what is best for her."

"It isn't right," Talia snarls, "She is for Bane, she cannot belong to anyone else but us!"

Ra's face hardens then and Talia closes her mouth quickly.

"Do not be mistaken, child- when I look at him, I think of the hell you and Atiya and your mother were forced to endure. I spared his life only because of you."

"Atiya needs Bane at her side," Talia says, softening her tone. "She is weak without him but together they are strong- don't you want that for her? And he deserves her, after all he's done."

"You speak of your sister as if she is an invalid because she chooses not to follow your council," Ra's snaps. "I gave you the freedom to choose your own partner; why should Atiya not have the same freedom?

"But know this above all, Talia. I will _not_ have my youngest daughter forced to carry on with Bane out of obligation. Regardless of what he's done in the past, Atiya does not deserve to be tethered to that _thing_."

Talia rears back as if slapped. "He fights with all his might for us, on your behalf, and you would call him such things? She would be dead, _I_ would be dead, if it weren't for him."

"And he would be dead now, if it weren't for Atiya," Ra's says calmly. "I believe her debt to him has been repaid.

"Now go, daughter, and don't speak of this to me again."

**XV.**

For months, Talia watches Bane watch Atiya.

He says nothing of his feelings but she can see the hopelessness in his eyes each time Atiya and Dante appear together.

"You must make your move," Talia pleads with him as he practices with the _kama _in the weapons room. "Tell her, remind her what is owed to you. Do you not want a future with her? Do you not want her to carry your children? After all those years, she _will_ give herself to you if you would only say the words."

Bane stops and lowers his arm.

He is shirtless and in the light of the moon through the window, Talia can see the sheen of sweat over his thickly muscled arms and back and chest. Even with his mask, and perhaps even _because_ of his mask, he looks like a god or a great hero from a myth.

Her father is wrong. Bane is worthy of her sister. The beautiful Atiya and the warrior Bane.

It is poetry, their coupling- why can't Bane see this?

"And that is why I will never say the words," Bane says. He raises his head to face Talia. "She loves me, even if her heart will never be mine. It is enough."

"You cannot give up!" But even as she speaks, she knows that her dreams of their family are crumbling before her eyes.

_I have not worked this hard, I have not endured all of that suffering, just to have my future destroyed by one little boy._

That night, when she lies with Barsad, she tells him what must be done.

**XVI.**

Weeks later, Dante disappears.

Atiya runs into her father's chambers, disrupting a meeting, when she finds out. Both Ra's and Talia get to their feet when they see the state Atiya is in.

"He's gone!" she says, nearly hysterical, "Father, the men say he never showed up for training this morning and when I went into his room, his belongings were gone. Father, father, did you…. Was it you? Did you send him away?"

Out of the corner of her eyes, Talia sees Bane turn to her.

"Did I do something wrong, father?" Atiya wrings her hands and her eyes fill with tears. "I thought… I thought you approved. Or… or did he leave me of his own accord?"

Atiya looks so young that Talia moves towards her and pulls her close. She is shaking badly and Talia tightens her grip, wanting to make sure Atiya feels secure in her arms.

"No, Atiya," Ra's says slowly. He stares at Talia with his cold, pale eyes and the room seems to drop in temperature. He turns to Bane and Barsad and then back at Talia. "I did not send Dante away. And I doubt he would leave this place without telling you first. No man leaves my purview without my knowledge."

Talia stares back at their father defiantly, even as she runs her hand up and down her sister's back.

"No one can know what is in a man's heart," Talia counters. Ra's narrows his eyes and Talia turns away before he can say anything else.

She leads Atiya out of the room and murmurs in her ear, "He wasn't for you, my darling girl."

**XVII.**

Ra's begins to keep the three of them- Talia, Barsad and Bane, at arm's length.

He doesn't share his suspicions about Dante's disappearance with Atiya and Talia knows it's because the truth would shatter Atiya's world. Talia plays on her father's pragmatic nature; he would prefer that no discord ruin his house.

Besides, Atiya is the fragile daughter; the one who struggles with the death her handiwork causes. Another shock would only tear her apart.

_I did it for you. You will live to thank me one day._

It becomes difficult for her to find time to spend with Atiya but even when they are together, she is withdrawn. She carries herself as if she is made of glass and Talia feels her sister's grief as if it were her own.

But soon Talia is sure Atiya will recover from her heartbreak and eventually turn her once misguided heart towards the man who has always been there for her, who is certain never to leave her side.

For his part, Bane approaches her cautiously and Talia feels at ease when Atiya allows him close.

One day, she steps into the room when Atiya is adjusting his mask for the week and hears them speaking in soft tones. Her sister's back is turned towards her but Bane says nothing when he spots Talia at the door.

There is an IV attached to his arm and Talia knows the routine by heart. Her sister strives to keep the pain away, even when the mask is off. He can endure a few minutes- ten at the most, without the painkiller Atiya makes but any longer than that, he is severely weakened.

There are traces of his former good looks left in his features but his face is ruined. Still, Atiya does not recoil from him as others would and even from a distance, Talia can see the fervent love in Bane's eyes.

"Do you remember the little doll you made for me?" Atiya says as she works. "The one made of burlap and straw?"

"You slept with it in your arms for years before it fell apart," Bane says.

Talia sees her sister nod.

"I used to pretend that if I held it tight enough and wished hard enough, I could go away, leave the pit for a little while." Atiya rubs ointment onto the scars on his jaw and Bane lowers his head so that she doesn't have to reach far. "It didn't work, of course, but it made me feel better. I wish… I wish I had it now. Isn't that silly, that I long for a doll now?"

"Wanting comfort is never silly." Bane reaches up and wraps his hand around Atiya's wrist, stilling her motions. It looks so small in his large hand but she knows Bane is using the lightest of touches. "I would make you a thousand dolls now, if it could take away even a fraction of your pain."

"Do you think he thinks of me, wherever he is?" Atiya asks. "It's been almost six months. Maybe I'm just a distant memory by now."

Bane glances at Talia briefly.

"I would consider any man a fool if he could walk away from you."

Atiya sighs. She pulls her arm back and he releases her easily but then she places her hand, so small and so pale, against his chest over his heart.

"You are my dearest friend, Bane. Thank you."

Talia's heart nearly stops when she hears Bane's soft reply.

"I could be more, if you'd let me."

For a long time, Talia holds herself still even as she wants to rush forward and shake her sister into saying something, anything. But she forces herself not to react, even as Atiya remains silent for what seems like an eternity.

And then, Bane's face seems to change, to grow lighter, as he looks at her sister. Whatever it is that Bane sees in Atiya's face, it's clear what is on his.

_Hope_.

She moves out of the room on the balls of her feet, feeling lighter than air.

**XVIII.**

The three of them, along with a small group of men, are sent away for a long time afterwards.

On the surface, it looks as if Ra's is giving Talia a great honor; she is in charge of razing a town that has no hope of redemption. But Talia knows what her father's actions really mean-

_He wants to separate us. _

_Keep Bane from Atiya. _

They complete their task but when they come back, they find that Ra's has taken on a new pupil with apparently extraordinary promise.

He orders them to stay out of sight from Bruce Wayne and Talia doesn't dare defy her father in this. They only really differ with regards to Bane, after all, so she obeys him.

One night, she stops at the open door of Atiya's lab and realizes that Bruce is inside with her sister.

Frowning, Talia leans forward and listens.

_If he does anything, says anything that interferes with my plans for our future…_

"…it's a bad place for me," Bruce is saying. He has a low, raspy voice that grates on Talia's ears. "Filled with bad memories. There's nothing left for me there, to be honest. But part of me… part of me wants to go back. I'm not entirely sure why anymore. The entire city is horrible, filled with corruption and greed."

"I don't blame you," Atiya says. Talia hears the clink of her tools and the sound of bandages being pulled out from their container. "But consider this- I grew up in a very dark place. I had my sister and my mother but we were always in danger. Every day, there was always something to fear. You would have thought it was hopeless growing up there, and it _was_, really. Yet even in the midst of all that, even in the darkest shadows, I found good. Or maybe it was that good found me."

It is the most that Atiya has said in a long time and it makes Talia jealous. Who is this man who can make her sister speak so freely?

He hisses in pain suddenly.

"I'm sorry. I should have warned you that the antiseptic would sting."

"Don't worry about it. But you were saying?" he says. "You're telling me that good can exist anywhere or something?"

"I'm telling you that the same darkness that can tear people apart, can also bind them together."

Talia hears the smile in Atiya's voice.

"And yes, I'm telling you that good can exist anywhere. Or_ something_."

Bruce laughs and Talia feels something inside of her tighten and twist. She hates the sound of his laughter, especially when it's directed towards her sister.

"Listen, I've been wondering- why are you even here?" he asks. "I'm beginning to sense that Ra's philosophy, and by extension Ducard's, doesn't exactly mesh with your point of view."

Talia knows that Ra's has veiled himself under false pretenses, that Gotham is his next target, but she is curious to hear what Atiya will say in response.

There is silence and then she hears Bruce say, "You don't have to answer, I was just-"

But to her surprise, Atiya cuts him off.

"I'm here because I believe that good can exist anywhere."

**XIX.**

It all falls apart when Atiya sees one of the men using Dante's sparring blades.

Barsad had been careless; he'd forgotten to remove everything from his pockets after the night they dealt with Dante and in the compound, there is little that isn't shared between the men because they are _brothers_.

Talia can tell the moment her sister recognizes her old lover's weapons and she suddenly feels powerless to stop Atiya as she demands answers from the other man.

"I got them from Barsad," he says, confused. He holds them out, two small, delicate blades, and Atiya grabs them, cutting herself in the process. "Does it belong to you, little shaman?"

Shock makes Atiya's face grow pale and she staggers backwards, and would have fallen to the ground if it weren't for the man's quick reflexes.

When Talia reaches her, she looks down at Atiya's face and knows… She knows her baby sister has connected _Barsad_ with _Talia_.

"My darling," Talia rushes out. "My beloved, you have to understand that -"

"Dante wouldn't leave them behind," she says, in an odd, emotionless tone. She stares at the blades in her hand, at the blood that is slowly trickling from her fingers. "They belonged to his father- the only thing he had left of his family. He said he would die before they left his side. Why did Barsad have them? Why did he-"

"Atiya, listen," Talia says, feeling panic sweep over her. She tries to make her voice stern and harsh so that her sister will obey her as she always did. "You listen to me! We are going to walk inside and you'll sit down and I'll-"

"He's dead, isn't he?" Atiya finally looks back at Talia and her face crumples into something ugly and accusing. "You _murdered _him."

The other man blinks, surprised and then looks at Talia with a frown.

"Shut up, you foolish little girl," Talia snaps. She grabs her sister's arm and jerks her to the side, away from the man and begins pulling her back towards the doors. "You can barely see beyond your own feet. Don't you think I always have your best interests at heart? Don't you understand that I know best how to keep you safe?"

Atiya tries to dig her heels in and pull her arm back but Talia is stronger and she drags her sister along. They are almost to her quarters when Ra's blocks her way.

"Let go of your sister," he says in a quiet, angry voice.

"This has nothing to do with you," Talia says, digging her fingers into Atiya's arm. She draws in a sharp breath and tries again to pull her arm away. "This is our business."

"I'll tell you one more time, Talia. Let your sister go."

Talia bares her teeth. "This is none of your concern."

Ra's steps forward and pushes Talia against the wall roughly. The shock of it, the disbelief that her father could lay hands on her, loosens her grip on Atiya's arm.

Her sister twists away and runs down the hallway.

Atiya _runs away from Talia_.

"Father," Talia says, looking at him balefully. "Look what you've done."

Ra's face gives nothing away.

He says, "You've brought this down on yourself."

**XX.**

Talia is sent away again and when she comes back, Atiya is gone.

She insists on knowing where she's gone but Ra's only shakes his head.

"This was to be a safe haven for you and your sister," he says. "But you've destroyed that."

"She's out there, by herself," Talia protests. "Let me find her. I will beg her for forgiveness and she will come back. Do not abandon her to the wilderness. Please father, show us your mercy."

"Just as you have done? Shall I show you the same mercy you showed Dante, your brother in arms?"

Ra's raises a brow and leans back in his chair as he regards Talia across the table. Bane and Barsad stand in the shadows, flanked by the rest of the League.

"Atiya goes with my blessing and she did not share her destination with me. Even if you try and follow her, she's been gone weeks. Your sister has a talent for disappearing when she doesn't want to be seen. Leave her be for now. She will return if she chooses to."

"You've sentenced her to death then," Talia spits out. "Without me or Bane to protect her. She'll die alone and it will be just as it was in the pit, when you abandoned us-"

"Enough!" Ra's slams his fist down on the table.

Talia falls silent as Ra's looks up, past her. Her heart sinks with dread as she realizes he is looking at Bane.

"I am done with this." He points a finger at Bane. "This centers all on you! Your face is a reminder of all that I've lost and I am done seeing it. The darkness from where you came has turned one of my daughters into this selfish creature and has driven the other one away.

"You leave this place tonight or your life is forfeit."

**Next part: Atiya's POV. Gotham and its reckoning. A reunion and a goodbye.  
Thanks for reading/reviewing! =) **


	2. Atiya (beginning)

**A/N: **This part got away from me. I just had to post it before it got even longer and I got tired of reading and re-reading the damn thing. It was meant to be about the same length as the first part but I just kept going and when I went back to edit, it was still a beast. To give you some perspective, the original length of this was 15k words. As it stands, it's only about 10k.

**Warning: **Very slight hint of non-con in the beginning. Also, John Blake pops up here. Surprise? I have this thing for triangles, as one reviewer said.

Anyway, I expect to write only one more part and then a short epilogue (which will be Bane's POV). Would love to hear your thoughts and thank you for reading.

**And in the Darkness Bind Them **

**Atiya**

**I.**

She is eight years old and night has fallen in the pit.

She is eight years old and her mother is dead.

The moonlight turns the stone prison into something otherworldly and strange; Atiya blinks tiredly at the shadows surrounding them as her sister dreams behind her. Talia is a restless sleeper and she tosses and turns in the cot provided by the man who rescued them only a few days before.

_Bane. _

Atiya remembers his voice sounding out the name. And then she thinks-

_Momma._

She sniffles a little. She misses her mother and Atiya knows she is Gone Forever. She knows she is Never Coming Back. She heard Talia and Bane talking to each other earlier- Bane had told Atiya, out of kindness and pity, that her mother had gone to sleep and Talia had shrieked at him, furious.

_You'll scare her, _Talia had said, _she'll never want to sleep again._

Bane had apologized but Atiya knew it wasn't necessary. She knew the difference between night-sleep and forever-sleep. Even if she didn't, she would have known from the way their mother's screams had lasted for hours after they escaped that no one could have survived whatever it was that made her cry out like that.

But Talia was right about one thing- Atiya doesn't want to sleep ever again.

When she closes her eyes, she can still hear her mother's cries amidst the grunts and moans of the other prisoners. She would rather stay awake until exhaustion wrapped her in dreamless rest.

Atiya sucks her thumb quietly and keeps her eyes open, though they feel raw and dry. Talia murmurs in her sleep and she tries to focus on her sister's presence, her voice, even if it means her dreams are uneasy.

Beside her, on the floor next to the cot, she hears rustling and she turns to look at Bane. He has watched over them since that horrible day and now he reaches down and runs his fingers lightly through her hair.

"Sleep, little baby," he murmurs. Even muted, his rich voice curls around his words, giving them a strange but pleasing cadence. "No harm will come to you now."

His eyes are soft as he looks at her and she wants to tell him she's not a baby but it doesn't seem worth the effort. She watches him frown slightly and his thumb brushes over the space between her brows.

He sighs heavily.

"Silent, little Atiya," he says. "So solemn and serious for one so young. What thoughts do you hide behind your lovely eyes?"

He asks her questions though she never answers them and she has grown to like the gentle man who tears the bread he feeds her into little pieces for her comfort.

She can tell Talia likes him too, though she pretends not to.

He smiles down at her and she thinks he looks sad, even with his funny crooked teeth; it is his eyes- his eyes look sad. "Baby Atiya, born of water. You temper your sister, who is fire and heat. Do you know how much she needs you? How much you soothe her with just your presence? You are lucky to have each other."

Talia is strong and big and smart; Atiya would do anything to be just like her. It's beyond her comprehension that her brave, wonderful sister would _need_ her. She twists her head a little, away from his hand, because she is unhappy with his words.

He seems to sense her displeasure and he makes little shushing noises to placate her.

"You'll find your words someday. They will flow from you like a river. And when you do, when you finally choose to speak, people will listen."

Atiya cannot understand what Bane is saying but it doesn't matter anymore. He puts his hand over her cheek and she closes her eyes, feeling safe and protected and sleepy.

Before she drifts off, she hears him say-

"One day, the world will hear your voice and they will not be able to turn away.

**II.**

Atiya is fifteen and night has fallen in the pit.

She stares at the bars of their cell and reaches up to touch the key around her neck. She knows that, even if the others were to try and move the bars apart, they would be driven back in agony.

In the moonlight, the poison-coated bars gleam.

Bane's arms tighten around her and she turns away from the distance to look at him. In the shadows, his face looks almost whole again, the darkness diminishing the depth of his scars, the gouges in his face. As she does whenever she looks at him unguarded and vulnerable like this, she feels a deep, dark anger stir restlessly inside her chest.

It is only at night that they leave their faces uncovered. It is only at night when they feel safe enough.

Atiya pushes the anger back down and then realizes that he is looking back at her. They are curled into each now on the cot and his arms are wrapped around her, strong and secure.

"You should sleep," Bane says.

Atiya can tell that the new medicine she has created for him is working; his speech is not colored by pain. Perhaps tomorrow he will be able to move without clenching his fists to contain his agony.

"_You_ should sleep," she counters and he smiles slightly. It fades as he reaches up to touch her face, under her eyes.

"You need your rest," he says. "The shadows creep into your eyes. It is a tragedy that they should mar your beauty so."

Bane is a poet, she thinks sometimes. He knows how to use words to make her smile or frown or _think_. Atiya has no real use for words though, not with him. He can tell what she is thinking just from a gesture.

"What use do I have for beauty?" she says and he snaps his tongue at her.

"I don't mean your face, lovely girl."

Atiya huffs out a laugh and then passes her hand over his short hair. He keeps it trim while she keeps her hair past her shoulders. Her mother liked it so; it is a tribute to her, even though she must keep it pulled back and hidden away most times.

"What keeps the shadows there?" he asks. "What keeps rest from your grasp?"

Atiya shrugs with one shoulder. He says nothing for a while and she knows that Bane is already aware of why she can't sleep.

"Do you think she's safe?" Atiya asks. "Do you think she's happy?"

Without feeling guilt for it, she misses her Talia even more than her mother. Atiya would never, ever want her sister to come back but she wants to be sure that she is happy and protected wherever she is.

"Talia is a queen now," Bane says. He knows she would never tolerate an ill word against her sister; she never wants to hear Bane wish for her back, even if it is to help them. "She has a kind and generous king for a husband and her children are smart and virtuous. Talia rides on pure white horses, with a gold gilded saddle and the softest leather boots. They have grand feasts every night, and no one around them ever goes hungry and-"

Atiya smiles and presses her face against his shoulder. It is an old ritual but one that she never gets tired of.

She falls asleep a few breaths later, warm and comforted by dreams of her sister's good life.

**III.**

"Eat, sister. Have your fill."

Talia pushes a big bowl of soup, thick and hearty and _hot_, towards her on the table and Atiya stares down at it, feeling nauseated. On her right is a generous slice of bread with cold, creamy butter to put on top.

It feels like a dream, like something out of Bane's stories, but Atiya has woken up each morning since her sister and her father-

_Ra's, my father's name is Ra's Al Ghul._

-dropped down from the heavens and took her and Bane out of the pit and into the sun. It's been a week since and she's still overwhelmed with the sights and sounds and sensations of all the new things around her.

She looks up, away from the soup, and sees her father's men taking part in their own meals. Some of them look back at her and smile; others avert their eyes when they see her looking back at them. All of them, every single one, has been nothing but kind to her. Deferent, even.

It makes her unsettled and wary. It makes her so _tired._

Talia presses her hand against her back and frowns. Atiya knows it is because her sister can feel her bones underneath her sweater.

"Please," Talia says in a soft, desperate voice. "Eat."

"Give her time, Talia," her father says at the head of the table. Atiya looks up at him and he nods at her. She thinks that he may understand her: she is not like Talia, after all. Not brave and fearless like her.

Atiya still hides herself in the shadows, feeling safer there than she does in the light. She wonders that her father doesn't grow frustrated with her for not speaking.

"She needs nourishment," Talia says hotly beside her. She looks back at Atiya and her face falls a little. "I left you there too long, my darling. You have to make up for all those years…"

"And she will, in her own time," Ra's says smoothly. He looks at Atiya for a beat longer before turning away to discuss something with a man beside him.

"He doesn't know," Talia says softly. "No one can know what it was like down there, not like us."

At that, Atiya raises her head to look at Bane, who sits at a mostly empty table with another man… _Barsad_, she thinks. He looks uncomfortable; his face is displayed for everyone to see. He keeps his head down as he eats, slowly and carefully.

Talia cuts off suddenly as Atiya stands up and takes the bread in her hand, leaving the rest behind.

She sees Bane look up, startled when she sits down at the table next to him. She feels the eyes of the other men on her but Atiya doesn't look at them, keeping her gaze on her friend.

She starts to eat her bread, tearing it into little pieces and Bane relaxes, looking more settled and at peace as he resumes eating. A moment later Talia sits with them, next to the other man, and slides her forgotten bowl of soup across the table at Atiya.

Atiya looks up and Talia smiles at her, wide and warm.

"Eat, sister. Have your fill."

And she does.

**IV.**

Atiya grows older and Bane becomes stronger, _bigger_.

The shaman dies and she takes over his responsibilities- tending to the ill and wounded, making tools of destruction and sickness when her father asks. She finds she is good at building things, her small hands are steady and deft and she reforms Bane's mask, smoothing the edges and securing the tubes that deliver his medicine so that nothing comes loose when he fights.

She knows he likes feeling powerful after so many years spent defenseless, and she does what she can to keep him so safely.

It amazes her sometimes, how delicate he can be with her. She's seen him break arms and legs with just a twist of his hand and yet his touch on her arm is light as a feather.

She knows Talia thinks it means something, the way they both seek each other out, but Atiya considers Bane as a brother. Talia has dreams, fantasies of a _legacy_, but Atiya cannot fathom wanting anything more than what she has now.

Her father gives her books to read and magazines from the outside to look at, and her sister tries- but fails, to dress her up beyond the simple clothing she prefers. Barsad tells her funny stories of his travels and the people he meets and Bane allows her to be quiet with him, letting her crawl into his bed beside him when she has had the rare nightmare of their life before.

Food, shelter, family and friends: Atiya is content to live a small life.

(And if her father's vision of the world troubles her, if the things she creates for him weighs heavy on her heart, she says little about it. She is good at pushing things down.)

One day she walks into the dining hall, ready to take her place by Bane's side at their table when she sees a man sitting beside her father. He is young and slender, with dark hair and dark eyes, and when he looks up, Atiya feels a jolt run through her.

Suddenly, Atiya _wants._

His name is Dante, like the Italian poet, and they circle each other as if pulled together by some invisible orbit. He trains with the men and earns their respect with the ferocity of his attacks, the purity of his anger. He follows Atiya as she gathers supplies from the forest and stands by her when she goes into the nearby city to buy the chemicals she needs.

Dante doesn't smile much, not at first, but when he does Atiya thinks his face is transformed.

He tells her the story of his family one night in her lab, sitting in the corner with his head hung down and his voice thick with tears. It's clear he loves them all still, even though he helped to bury them and Atiya sits by him, running her fingers through his hair to soothe him as he gathers himself with deep, painful breaths.

Ra's comes to her one day, pleased and joyful, and tells her that Dante has asked for his permission to court her.

"It's old fashioned for him to ask me," her father says. He laughs and shakes his head. "But respectful and proper. He is a good man, Atiya. Will you accept him?"

Atiya blushes but she smiles back at her father and nods.

"Good," he says, satisfied. He pretends to frown then and he shakes his finger at her. "You'll tell me if he does anything you don't like or aren't ready for."

She knows her father will find out if Dante does anything of the sort without her help but she nods, playing along.

When Dante kisses her, his hands cupping her face and his lips soft and sweet, Atiya finally understands why her sister dreams of a family, of creating something that will last long after she will.

"We will grow old together. I will watch your hair grow white and you will count the lines on my face," Dante tells her one night, as she lies in his arms. "And we'll look back on our life and never regret a moment."

Atiya allows herself to feel something beyond contentment.

She is _happy_.

**V.**

Dante disappears.

**VI.**

Atiya walks up the steps to the highest point of the compound. Though she is wrapped in her thickest coat and warmest boots, she is cold, cold, _cold_ down to the marrow in her bones.

She steps out onto the rooftop and gazes at the sky above. Millions of stars light up the dark expanse and Atiya wants to feel something, anything, beyond the pain that twists in her chest, the hollow space created by Dante's absence. She wants to be overcome by the beauty of the night, to feel awed, but instead she just feels a deep chill.

"You should sleep."

Atiya looks to the side and finds Bane standing beside the edge. She goes to him, steps heavy and clumsy through the thick snow.

"_You_ should sleep," she says back, though her voice sounds flat and dull. Bane sighs, his mask amplifying his breath and without asking, she leans against him, letting herself be held up.

He shifts slightly and then she is being wrapped in his coat, encircled by his arms. She feels the cool press of his mask at the top of her head and she rests her cheek against his chest.

"What can I do to help you?" Bane asks softly. "Tell me and I'll do it. Anything."

She doesn't answer him but she thinks-

_Nothing. There's nothing anyone can do. This was my fault._

_I shouldn't have wanted anything more than what I had. _

Words are so often useless and imprecise. They are uttered rashly, starting quarrels and wars because they are used thoughtlessly. Atiya prefers to keep her words inside, at first because any sound could give her away in the pit and then later because she has nothing of value to say.

She is not like her father. She is not like Talia. Words do not come easily to her.

Atiya thinks it's because she feels too deeply, and she would rather push down what she feels inside but now…

She _hurts._

"Have I ever told you the story about Orion, the great hunter?" Bane asks, after a moment. She feels his arms tighten around her.

"Ah, an oversight," he says when she shakes her head. "If you look up you can see him in the sky, arm stretched out with his sword in his hand. In Greek mythology, Orion was the son of the sea-god Poseidon and Euryale. The old stories portray him as a hero but he was a fool, really. Funny how some men are immortalized so. Orion could walk on water and one day-"

Atiya closes her eyes and lets Bane's voice wash over her. She finds a small measure of comfort in the way she can feel his heart beat against hers and she drifts off to the sound of his story.

When she wakes up, Atiya finds herself on her bed. Her coat hangs on the back of a chair and her boots are on the floor but she is warm and safe underneath her covers.

For the first in months, Atiya feels as if she can breathe again.

**VII.**

He begins to leave her little gifts. Useful things, to be sure, but unasked for.

Atiya finds a scarf one night, folded over and placed on the foot of her bed. It is soft and warm and a deep, dark blue- the color of her eyes.

The following week, there is a leather journal with a depiction of the night sky carved on the cover. She uses it to take notes on her formulas.

Atiya laughs when she finds thick, rainbow colored socks, remembering the day before when she'd stuck her uncovered feet near the fire to warm herself up after trudging home from the field in the rain.

But the gift she values most, the one she studies for a long time, is a small burlap bear.

As she holds it, she remembers Bane's words-

_I would make you a thousand dolls now, if it could take away even a fraction of your pain._

-and she thinks back to the time when her world revolved around a similar toy, worn and faded around its tummy where she gripped it tight until the stuffing fell out and the burlap became nothing more than bits of string.

She thinks of Bane's hands. His thick, strong fingers had been broken and reset many times over and she wonders how long it had taken him to craft such a small, delicate thing.

Atiya walks out of her room and towards Bane's quarters with the bear in her grasp.

He is there, fresh from a shower, clad only in loose trousers. When he sees her, his eyes widen in alarm. His mask is on a desk in a corner and he moves towards it quickly, putting it back on his face in a matter of seconds.

She doesn't know why he bothers. She's seen his wounds; she tends to them each week.

"Is there anything you need?" Bane asks, rolling his shoulders back. He is confident again, now that he is protected.

"You said you could be more, if I wanted it," she says. "And I didn't answer."

Bane looks at her for a moment before lowering his eyes. He is silent for a moment and then he gestures to his face.

"I shouldn't have said that," he says, as softly as the mask will allow him to. "I know that I look… My face is…"

He trails off and Atiya feels something in her heart clench at his hesitance.

"That doesn't matter to me," she says.

Bane nods but his eyes are troubled. She thinks of how her sister would mock Dante, calling him _pretty_ because he was still a boy in her eyes. He was older than Atiya by a year and it used to bother her that Talia would mock him for his youth.

Now though, she realizes that Bane also heard Talia's words. That perhaps he took them to mean something else entirely.

_Have you ever asked what would make him happy? What he sees when he thinks of the future?_

"If you can wait," she begins slowly, "if you give me time-"

"I can," Bane says, quickly. He takes a step forward and then stops. "I would and I will."

Atiya smiles at him and holds the burlap bear up to her chest.

"Thank you."

**VIII.**

After her sister's treachery is revealed, after Ra's sends Talia, Barsad and Bane away, Atiya packs a bag.

She takes only three things: sparring blades aged with time and use, a thick sheaf of bills given to her by her father, and, after much consideration, the burlap bear.

She leaves only one thing: the formula for a new painkiller, so powerful that it could dull even the most excruciating pain, but without clouding the mind. It is written in the leather journal, a present from what seems like another age now, and she places it on the floor beside Bane's door.

At dawn on the day of her departure, she stands at the entrance of her sister's empty quarters and draws in a breath. The scent of her, so warm and familiar, fills her head and she lets it out slowly. She thinks of Talia- of her fierce and bright nature, and of loss, of _Dante_.

_I will watch your hair grow white and you will count the lines on my face. And we'll look back on our life and never regret a moment._

_We will grow old together._

Atiya thinks of the destruction she has caused, of the lives she's taken with her creations and she turns away, ready to leave. She feels guilty that one man's death would mean more to her than the deaths of unknown numbers.

She passes Bruce in the hallway on her way to the great doors, and he calls out after her when he sees the bag in her hand and the expression on her face. He tries to follow her, to ask her questions, but her father's men block his way.

Atiya doesn't look back.

**VIX.**

She doesn't speak to anyone during her first year alone.

The world is loud and chaotic and _full_ of things and Atiya is too overcome to find her words.

She makes her way silently through the crowded streets in Cairo with her face and body hidden underneath a burqa, and she sits still and watchful on metal chairs outside cafes in Paris.

She takes in the puppet shows at the Piazza Navona in Italy and lays her palm on the old stone of Fort Santiago at Intramuros in the Philippines.

During the day she visits libraries and museums, sneaking into full classrooms at nearby universities to listen to the erudite and educated speak of Chaucer, or the movement of the stars, or the way numbers predict the way a ball will fall when thrown.

At night, in the rooms she rents for days or weeks or months at a time, she wraps herself in blankets and thinks of the time when she wasn't alone, when she was _never_ alone, and she closes her eyes and pretends that this is a better life.

When she can't sleep, when bitterness keeps rest from coming, Atiya wanders the streets with the blades hidden under her sleeves. She thinks about how lucky she is really, how her father has eased her way into the outside, but underneath it all is the ever-present anger.

She doesn't look up at the stars anymore.

**X.**

Eventually, she starts to speak again and learns how to use words to cover herself as she once did with old rags and pieces of cloth. She creates different lives to match the various identities stamped on passports and ID cards.

"I have eight brothers," she says to an old man in Venice who decided he wanted her company for dinner. "We lived with our parents on a farm. We raised horses."

"I was born in the circus," she tells a woman in Melbourne who started speaking to her one afternoon while she was sitting on a park bench. "My mother was a fortune-teller and my father was a magician. I tamed tigers and made them dance on their toes while I clapped."

"I'm an orphan but I was adopted by a Count who had shoes made for me for every day of the year."

"I was a dancer but I broke my leg the night after my greatest and best performance. I'll never be on stage again."

She finds that people are drawn to her. She never put much stock in her face, not like Talia did, but something about her- perhaps it is her eyes, she thinks- pulls them in. She doesn't mind it much most of the time but Atiya doesn't think she will ever feel comfortable with the attention she garners.

She thinks that people look at her and assume so much; she looks at them and knows she'll always be too different to really fit in their lives.

In a bar in London, a boy with dark hair and dark eyes says, "I want to know everything about you."

He is handsome, so familiar, and the shape of his mouth and the clean lines of his jaw make her breath catch in her throat.

She says, "I was born in a pit of monsters. When my mother died, my sister and I were raised by a man who gave up his face so she could escape."

The boy leans in, close enough so that she can smell the sweat underneath his cologne.

Atiya continues, "When she came back and saw what had happened to him, she grew blinded by her guilt. She thought that by offering me to him, it would balance the scales between them. You see, the man loved me."

"Did you love him back?" he asks, frowning.

Atiya considers his question seriously, remembering Bane's face, the way he tried not to meet her eyes when his mask was off. He never questioned whatever she gave him, trusting that she would never cause him harm with her creations.

_I could be more, if you'd let me._

Atiya shrugs. She still carries the toy he made with her, taking it out every now and then to run her fingers over the stitches.

"I might have. I could have. But my sister pushed too hard. She did something terrible that I couldn't forgive."

"So what did you do?"

"I ran away," Atiya finishes. She sips her drink, a glass of water with a lemon wedge in it, enough to fool the people around her. "And here I am now."

"And here you are now." He smiles at her, slow and sweet. "It's a good story."

Atiya nods, putting her drink back down on the table between them.

"Isn't it?"

**XI.**

She studies and absorbs the world around her, as fearsome and big as it is.

But always, in the back of her mind is her sister's voice; Talia's recrimination and command.

_You don't leave me ever._

Atiya wishes she never had to.

**XII.**

Atiya is twenty-six years old and she sits in a church in Ireland, listening to a priest delivering a sermon.

All around her are the faithful, the weary, the grief-stricken. She stares up at the stained glass windows and her gaze lingers on an image of the devil, red skinned and grinning as he looks down on the congregation.

"There is a universal longing, a hunger in every human soul for forgiveness; both to be able to give it, and to receive it," the priest says. He is young and sincerity bleeds through his words. "But why then, is it so hard to forgive?"

It has been six years since Atiya left her father's home. Six years since she last saw Talia.

She has started thinking of her sister's act in earnest, wondering if the anger she feels will ever dissipate. When she thinks of Dante, she wonders what his last thoughts were, if he thought of her as he felt his life slip away from him.

_Did he cry out? _she thinks. _Did he yell for help?_

She hopes not.

She hopes with all her might that his death was quick and painless.

The problem is she knows how her sister always liked to draw things out.

_He wasn't for you, my darling girl._

The old anger has started to morph into some darker and it frightens Atiya. She doesn't want to be consumed by it but the more she imagines Dante's last moments, the more restless the beast inside her grows. The harder it is for her to ignore and push down.

"…and in his anger, the king sent the first servant to be tortured by the jailers for his cruelty," the priest continues. "In Matthew chapter 18, verse 21, Jesus says, 'This is how my heavenly Father will treat each of you unless you forgive your brother or sister from your heart.'"

Atiya misses her Talia. She misses their home, her quiet life. She is proud of the experiences she's had but she feels a deep, constant loneliness that follows her wherever she goes now.

"Without forgiveness, complete forgiveness, not only is your soul at risk but you will have no future," the priest says. "Without forgiveness, there is no future, no freedom, no recovery from pain. But you might ask yourself- in a world with so much pain, is total forgiveness possible or is it just a distant ideal?"

She doesn't know how to reconcile the love and hate she feels for Talia and she isn't sure she can forgive her sister but she has never doubted that her sister only wanted the best for her. She has never doubted Talia's love.

Her all-consuming, suffocating love.

Atiya looks back at the priest. He catches her eye and he turns to her, angling his body towards where she sits. In his eyes is the fierce light of devotion, of utter belief and conviction in his words.

"Forgiveness is a choice we make. It is a conscious decision. It may be painful and it may not heal all the hurts you have experienced but where there is forgiveness, there is grace and mercy and a future as bright as the promises of God."

After the prayers are said and the hymns sung, Atiya stands up with the rest of the worshippers and makes her way slowly towards the exit. As she studies the ornaments of the church, she comes to a decision and already in her mind she is planning ahead, wondering what she will feel when she sees Talia again.

She is stopped by the priest before she can reach the exit and he smiles at her when she stares at him.

"You are a new face," he says brightly. "Have you come from another flock?"

Atiya shakes her head.

"That's alright. All souls are welcome here," he says. "I do hope we'll see you around more often."

"The service was lovely but I won't be coming back," Atiya says, her gaze drifting towards the doors.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he says. His smile falters slightly. "Is there anything we can do to change that? Perhaps you'd like to join our Monday sessions. It's a smaller crowd; Sunday service always draws the numbers but-"

Atiya begins to walk away. As kindly and gently as she can, she says-

"I don't believe in God."

**XIII.**

Atiya goes to a bank in Munich and asks to see a deposit box.

Her father had made her memorize an address and a long string of numbers before she left him, telling her only that she should go to the place when she was ready.

_Ready for what?_ she had asked.

Her father hadn't replied then but Atiya thinks she knows now what he meant.

She is taken to a secure room in the back and given a metal box to open with a key.

"I'll be back in twenty minutes," the suited teller says, and Atiya only nods before lifting up the top and peering inside.

There are papers, which Atiya sets aside, and underneath them are gems set in gold and silver and platinum. For a moment, she stares at the cache in surprise and then slowly, she picks up what looks to be a sapphire and marvels at the rich color against the light.

Atiya smiles, before putting it back in the box. She has no need for jewels or wealth but she can admire beauty when she sees it.

She flips through the papers and stops to read one that looks hand-written. When she reads the words, her smile grows softer.

_These belonged to your mother. _

It is in her father's handwriting and Atiya folds it up and places it carefully back in the box along with the jewels.

She picks up the other papers and looks through them more closely. On one slip, she finds a set of coordinates and she tucks that away into her pocket before resuming her perusal. She realizes the rest of the papers are telegrams, post-dated a little after her departure. They are from one of her father's men, a man named Tarek who lived in Libya but came to visit every few months.

She looks at them curiously and begins to read.

_Your father says this is the only way you are to be reached. I only hope you find this in time._

Her smile disappears.

When the teller comes back to collect her, he finds Atiya rocking in her seat, holding the crumpled telegrams to her chest, pale and shaking and _lost_.

**XIV.**

During the next few weeks, Atiya studies Gotham.

She learns about its history, its origins, and most importantly, its inhabitants. She reads about the city's prodigal son and about his dual roles as both the playboy and the philanthropist.

In the pictures she comes across, she sees the intense young man whose wounds she once tended to, the one who spoke to her at night in her lab when he was restless. Behind the sly smile and the tailored suits, she sees her past and the home she once had.

_Your father's home is destroyed. All those who lived there have perished. The accounts are muddled but the fault lies with Bruce Wayne. _

She reads about the League's attack on Gotham and the chaos that reigned shortly after. And she pores over accounts of the masked vigilante who the papers call _Batman_.

_Your father is dead. Gotham still stands. My condolences. _

_Your home has been rebuilt and the League lives on. They wait for your return._

She doesn't sleep much anymore but instead sits at her windowsill, playing with a set of small black vials sealed with split-rubber stoppers. She stares at the people outside as she rolls the vials in her hands, back and forth across her palms. She feels numb- or at least she keeps her emotions at bay, at a distance deep, deep down inside.

Atiya considers her next move.

Two months after Munich, she boards a plane and begins the long journey to the states.

**XV.**

Atiya gives her name to Alfred and Bruce allows her in, wary but gracious.

She studies him as he sits down across from her in his elegant parlor.

Atiya sees the toll that self-imposed isolation has taken on him. He is wearing slacks and a crisply ironed shirt but he looks haggard. His face is lean and haunted and his mouth, though set in a smile, is frail. The cane he hobbled on leans on the side of his chair and she glances down at the bony points of his knees.

"Thank you for seeing me," she says finally, raising her eyes to his face. "Especially considering your condition."

"You're welcome." He makes a gesture and she sees that his eyes, though dark, are still sharp. "I think."

He is guarded and she is satisfied with the expression.

"I take it this isn't a social call?"

"Not exactly," Atiya says. She sits, relaxed and calm, as he regards her.

He shrugs and looks away, seemingly unaffected by her presence. "I let you in because you once told me that good can be found anywhere. I believe you meant that. I hope I wasn't being foolish."

Atiya ignores his jab. She says, "I have a few questions I was hoping you could answer."

"And what if I told you I may not have the answers you want?"

Atiya is mildly disappointed but she'd expected his reluctance. She is from a dark time in his past, after all. She is of the League.

"Then it would be a shame," she says. She pulls a black vial from her pocket and holds it up so that Bruce can see. He sits up, stiffening, and he shakes his head.

"You should know that Alfred is right outside the door," he says.

_Close enough_, she thinks, _to breathe the air we breathe_.

"Good. That's very good." She shakes the vial a little and feels the liquid inside slosh around. "This is made of easy shatter glass. Custom-made, vacuum sealed. Inside is a poison that reacts rather well with oxygen. It's very potent, very quick. Even a single molecule is lethal in an enclosed space."

Bruce stiffens and she knows that he is regretting his decision to sit so far from her. As he is now, he's not fast enough to stop her from breaking it.

"All I have to do is crush the vial with my hand," she continues, "and we'd both be dead in seconds."

Bruce snorts, though he is pale. "I don't fear death."

"I never said you did," Atiya says. She tilts her head to the side. "Does Alfred?"

A look of pure agony crosses over Bruce's face and he takes in a deep breath. "I knew I shouldn't have let you in. Just a wolf in sheep's clothing, like all of them."

Atiya swallows down the fury that threatens to rush up and she draws in a deep breath before letting it out slowly. "I didn't say I would do anything. Answer my questions, that's all I want."

He nods slowly, his eyes focused on the vial. "Then by all means, ask your questions."

"I want to know why you killed Ra's Al Ghul." Even as she says it, the loss of her father and her sister and _Bane_ makes her chest tighten and twist in knots. The pain is still sharp, still new, and she allows it to harden her resolve. "You saved him and then you killed him. Why? I may not have agreed with his philosophy or his methods, but you _murdered_ him."

She stops and adds, "You set fire to his home in the mountains. It was_ my_ home as well, the only real home I ever knew. My family, my friends… you killed them. Why?"

"It was… it was necessary," he says haltingly.

"That's what Ra's used to say. Odd, isn't it? That you would use his words to excuse the same actions you once abhorred. How fortunate I left before it happened."

Bruce doesn't look away but he seems to age before her eyes. "I… I tried to go back. To save who I could but… the fire was…"

Atiya gestures with her free hand, as if to wave away his words and the anguish in his tone. "Please. Tell me what happened here all those years ago, Mr. Wayne. Tell me why you murdered the man who gave me a new life when I once had nothing. Tell me why I shouldn't kill all of us where we stand."

Bruce runs his hand over his face. He leans forward, with his elbows on his knees and nods.

"Okay," he says brokenly. He looks up at her face and nods. "I'll tell you what you want to know."

He does.

Atiya listens.

When he is done, when his voice is nothing more than a hoarse croak, Atiya feels as if there is nothing left inside of her. Everyone she's ever loved are all gone and Atiya feels as if she is made of ashes and dust, ready to be torn apart by a soft breeze.

There is silence and she realizes she is crying.

She thinks she will never be able to stop.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Bruce says and Atiya knows he _means_ it.

She looks up at him, old and drained of life and wonders if this is how it began. If soon, she'll be as lifeless as he is now, a creature trapped between the living and the dead. She holds the vial and crushes it in her palm. The pain is sharp and immediate but she keeps her hand steady, even as the shards cut into her flesh.

It is a fitting end to the cycle, she thinks. Dante's blades once cut her in the same place and now she sheds her blood at the loss of her family, of her _future._

_We will grow old together._

_Without forgiveness there is no future._

Bruce jerks up, struggling to get to his feet but Atiya holds out her other hand to stop him.

"It's water," she says.

He sits back, relief blooming over his features.

She doesn't tell him that the real poison- the true threat she spent weeks perfecting in the lab space she secured in Munich, is carefully packed in ice and foam in her bag.

She doesn't see the point.

**XVI.**

The days pass. Atiya barely notices.

She stays in Gotham because she has nowhere else to go.

Bruce considers her an ally now, someone who ran from the League as he did, but she ignores his missives with nary a second glance. She doesn't want revenge against the man who killed her father; she thinks he's done enough to himself, after all, but that doesn't mean she wants anything to do with him.

The one bedroom rental she gets is small and sparsely furnished and at night, when the silence gets to be too much she opens the windows to let the sounds of the city in and sleeps on the hard floor for comfort.

The pull, the drive that kept her traveling and moving for so many years is gone now that she is no longer tethered to a home, to a family.

_They were dead for six years._

_All that time I believed I could go back. All that time I believed I still had a sister._

To leave the past behind was one thing. Now she feels as if she has been cut off from it completely. The world outside no longer scares her but it holds no interest for her either. She is far from destitute and she doesn't need much to survive but…

_I lived because I ran away._

_I was the weakest out of all of them and I survived._

Atiya wonders vaguely if now is the time for her end.

She wanders the streets of Gotham like a ghost among the living. Sometimes she walks for hours, not eating or sleeping and some part of her wonders what she is looking for.

One day, months after her visit with Bruce, she comes across a fenced playground. The sights and sounds of children playing make her smile before she can stop herself and as Atiya continues walking she expects to find the entrance to a school or daycare.

When Atiya reads the sign over the doors she stares at it for a moment. The loss she carries on her shoulders doesn't seem as great or overwhelming as she stands before the building. She thinks of Bane and how she'd never really been alone. She thinks about how she would never have survived without him, without her mother or sister, not even knowing she had a father.

_I should have said good-bye._

Atiya walks home then, deep in thought. The next week, she goes back and walks through the doors with her papers in hand and a fresh ID.

She becomes an employee of the Gotham City Orphanage.

**XVII.**

"So you're new."

Atiya looks up from the schedule on the clipboard in her hand, frowning at the interruption, and freezes.

It is a man with an oddly youthful face, tall and slender but not thin. He is smiling broadly at her, dark eyes crinkling at the corners, and though he is wearing jeans and a t-shirt Atiya knows instinctively he is older than he looks.

She realizes that she's been staring at him in silence when his smile begins to falter.

"I've been here two weeks," she says finally, looking back down at the clipboard. "I haven't seen you before."

He takes a step closer and Atiya forces herself to keep her gaze on the schedule.

"Yeah, no," he says cheerfully. "I volunteer here on my days off. I'm usually off shift at least once or twice a week which is why… But I've been busy so… I mean, I would have noticed you before. Ah, because you're new. You have a face… I mean, you're a new face. If I had been here. Before. Earlier this week I would have... known you?"

He trails off and she sees him shuffle his feet beside her. For a moment she lets herself be charmed by his clumsy greeting before scanning the names on the paper in front of her.

She looks up when she finds what she's looking for. "John Blake."

His smile returns and he nods. "Yup. I'm here to help out with the field trip. The kids can be a handful, especially the older ones. The more hands the better, right?"

Some of the kids are sullen and angry, starting fights whenever they can. She can understand why, even if she can't exactly relate to them. She lets them be quiet with her, doesn't push them to talk, and they seem to appreciate that.

It was what Bane had done for her.

Atiya checks John's name off on the volunteer list.

"So where are we going again?" John asks.

"The zoo. We meet out front in fifteen minutes," she says, looking up. "Some of the younger boys need to go to the bathroom. If you can help them-"

"Yeah, of course," John says easily. She waits for him to leave but he lingers, watching her closely.

"You didn't… I still don't know your name," he says. His smile softens slightly. "Doesn't seem fair since you know mine."

She pauses and then says, "Atiya Mason."

She chose her new surname with care. Mason for stone, for the prison she grew up in. She knows she can't use her father's name. She still hides her identity from Bruce but she doesn't want to turn her back on the life she once knew. This is her way of remembering, of creating something new from her past.

"Atiya," John repeats. "It's a pretty name. What does it mean?"

She looks down again but under her breath she says-

"It means gift."

**XVIII.**

John proves to be good with the kids. They respect him and he shows a deft touch in handling even the most challenging out of the group.

Atiya watches him as he comforts a little girl who is frightened by the roaring tigers at feeding time and she can't help but smile when he picks her up and carries her on his hip for the rest of the day.

Afterwards, when the children are all accounted for and back inside, John approaches her with his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels.

"That was fun," he says. There is a slight flush on his cheeks but his eyes are steady on hers. "Listen, do you want to go get coffee or something. There's a place down the street, a few blocks away. Has the best espressos."

"I don't like coffee," Atiya says, and she walks away before she can see the expression on his face.

**XIX.**

It becomes a sort of game between them.

John comes around more often and each time he asks Atiya if she wants to get coffee with him. She always says no and he shrugs good-naturedly before leaving. He never pushes her and Atiya can pretend that it's all for fun, that he doesn't mean anything by his invitations.

He's decent and kind, quick to smile and laugh. She knows she has no place in his life.

Though she feels aimless, a little lost, she knows there's nothing to be done for it. Atiya is fine with what she has.

But sometimes, when John makes her laugh or when he touches her hand to get her attention, Atiya lets herself wish for something more. She goes home in the evening and stares at her blank walls and tries not to _want_ so much.

And then one day, John comes into the orphanage, still in his GCPD uniform looking upset. He stands at the doorway to the office she shares with the other employees, and the look he gives her makes her stand up and move towards him.

"John?" she says his name and he looks down, fiddling with the car keys in his hand.

"I just wanted to see you," he says in a low voice. "Today I… I saw his face and it was like I was a kid again and my dad…"

Atiya glances behind her and when she is waved away by one of her colleagues, she ushers John into the "quiet time" room used when one of the kids needs a moment alone. She closes the door behind them and pushes John into a small stool. He goes easily, like a puppet whose strings have been cut.

"Whose face?" she asks, when she sits down beside him.

An odd, bitter expression flits over his features and she realizes that she's never seen it before- not on John, whose smiles are a constant.

"I volunteer here because I grew up here," he says slowly. He stares down at his keys. "My mom died when I was young and my dad… He was killed. Today my partner and I were out patrolling in the narrows when we came across a robbery and the man was… I saw the man who killed my dad."

He draws in a shaky breath. "We arrested him for the robbery and… we're going to charge him with murder, I think. They still have the evidence from way back and… I'm off the case because of who I am but I couldn't be there anymore. Not today. They made me go home. Said I needed to take some time to myself but I just…"

He looks up at Atiya and gives her a weak smile. "I just needed to see a friendly face, I guess."

Atiya blinks at him, confused for a moment. "You think I'm friendly?"

John barks out a laugh and he wipes at his eyes with the back of his hand. He's shaking, even though he wears a thick jacket and Atiya puts her hand over his.

"Yeah," he says. She watches him swallow a few times. "Yeah, I do. I guess I thought maybe you'd understand. I don't know why. I mean, it's just a feeling but I thought you'd know how I felt."

Atiya thinks she does. She looks up at his face, at the broken expression he tries but fails to hide.

"Do you want to get some tea?" she asks. "The café across the street has a good selection of blends."

When he smiles again, he seems sturdier, a little less shaken.

"Yeah," he says. "I'd love to."

**XX.**

Later, John will turn to her and say, "You mean to tell me you would have gone out with me sooner if I had just asked you to tea?"

Atiya shrugs and raises her cup to her lips.

"Maybe."

**XXI.**

Over the next few months, John manages to plead, cajole and charm his way into Atiya's routine. At first it was only tea after his volunteer days but then it began to include dinner a few times a week as well.

Atiya is thrown off, unsure of how to react to him but John makes her imagine having a normal life. Of course she knows it isn't possible. Inevitably he will ask about her childhood, about her family; she knows whatever she says will change the way John looks at her and not for the better.

When she goes home after one of their… their _outings_, she feels as if she has to strip off a costume at the end of a performance.

_How can I tell him, _she wonders sometimes, _that I didn't know what electricity was until I was nearly an adult?_

_I didn't know what it was like to be full, to eat hot food, for the first half of my life?_

She knows that no one, not even John who is patient and thoughtful, will ever understand what it was like in the pit for her and Talia and Bane.

One evening as John is settling the bill for their dinner, Atiya glances down at his ID card and notices the name on it.

"Robin," she says in surprise. She watches as John blushes and quickly puts his wallet away, shrugging.

"My mom," he mutters, looking down at the table cloth. "I was born on the first day of Spring and she thought Robin would be a good name. So yeah. I'm stuck with it. I go by John mostly though."

"Your mom was clever," Atiya says. He looks up at her and smiles, his shoulders loosening slightly.

"Not everyone can have a pretty name," he says, leaning towards her. "Atiya. Now that's unique. How'd your parents come up with it?"

Atiya jerks back, unable to help the chill that runs through her.

_My mother named me because I was born alive._

_Because she thought my very breath was a gift. _

Something must show on her face because John's smile fades and he shakes his head, holding up his hands. "You don't have to answer, it's fine. No big deal."

Atiya looks away from him, feeling foolish over her reaction. She looks around the restaurant and feels tired. The dinner she has just eaten weighs heavy in her stomach. She is reminded yet again that she isn't like the people around her. She is only an imposter playing at normal; Talia's younger sister, who has trouble finding her words.

_In the end, I can be no one else,_ she thinks.

And then she realizes: _I have nothing to prove to anyone. _

"Are you okay?" John asks. "You got really pale all of a-"

"I always thought my sister's name was better," Atiya says suddenly. She licks her lips and looks back at John, her heart pounding in her chest as she speaks. "Her name is… _was_ Talia. My mother named us both."

John's eyes flash with curiosity. She's never revealed anything personal about herself though he has offered up much of his own history without asking for anything in return. To his credit, he sits back and nods.

"What does Talia mean?"

It's not the question she expected. Atiya is almost lightheaded with gratitude.

"Lamb," she says. "But Talia was beyond her name. She took care of me when we were kids. I…"

Her throat feels as if it is closing up but she pushes on, feeling the need to finish, to say the words that she could never say before.

"I miss her." She lets out a breath that sounds almost like a sob. "I miss her so much. She's dead now but not a day goes by that I don't think of her."

_I'm so angry at her but I'll always love her._

_My sister, my Talia._

Without saying a word, John gathers her up and helps her to her feet. When they walk out into the night, he curls their fingers together and doesn't let go until they're at her door.

She looks down at their hands and feels as if she is standing on the edge of something. So different from the first time she saw Dante, different even from the emotions she felt when Bane stood before her and offered her time.

For a moment she wavers, unsure of what she should do and then she realizes that she is tired of living a half-life.

Atiya forces herself to be brave then.

"I only have water and tea," she says, feeling both frightened and hopeful, "but would you like to come in?"

John smiles at her and squeezes her hand.

"Of course."

**XXII.**

Life with John isn't always easy.

Still, Atiya thinks she's the closest to _happy_ she's ever been since her days with Dante.

John is sometimes moody and sullen, needing to brood in a corner by himself. But always, he comes back to her with open arms, ready to talk. He is hot-tempered at times, though the heat is never directed at her, and he is surprisingly stubborn when it comes to odd things like ice cream flavors and his brand of shampoo.

She accepts these things about him just as he accepts her bouts of silence and her absolute refusal to talk about her past, outside of small references to her sister. He doesn't ask about the burlap bear she keeps by her bedside or why she sometimes checks and double checks the locks on the doors. He doesn't complain about her tendency to take long, hot showers and says nothing about how she'll wake up from the deepest sleep at the faintest noise.

It isn't perfect. It's far from the romantic ideal in the movies that John makes her see with him but each day Atiya feels as if part of her unravels just a little, loosening the knot of pain and fear that she has built over the years.

While she is at the orphanage one day, Father Reilly asks if she wants go to a fundraiser in his stead.

"It's being thrown by Miranda Tate," he tells her, holding out the tickets. He winks at her. "I think we'd be able to raise more money with you and John in the donors' faces than with an old man like me."

Atiya stares at the tickets with a frown. She remembers the name from the weeks she spent reading about Gotham and Bruce, but it was only ever mentioned in passing.

_A board member of Bruce's company_, Atiya thinks.

"I don't know," Atiya says, but she reaches out for the tickets anyway. "I'm not much for these things."

"Well, the tickets will go to waste otherwise. Consider it, Atiya. You deserve to have a night out on the town."

She doesn't know what he means but she nods at him anyway.

Surprisingly, John is enthusiastic about going.

"Free food!" he exclaims with a laugh. He falls backwards onto his couch and Atiya smiles at his exuberance. He waves her over and she goes to him easily, curling up to his side like a cat.

"Come on, we'll get you a nice dress, I'll rent a tux. We'll dance the night away." John chuckles and hugs her tightly, pressing his lips against her cheek. "And if you hate it, we'll sneak away early, no biggie. But I think it'll be fun. Miranda Tate is known for throwing these amazing parties."

Atiya feels the last of her doubt melt away. And really, she is unable to say no to John about anything. He lives his life forcefully, with _intention _and sometimes his fierce, protective nature reminds her of Talia. He brings her into the world, forcing her to interact with it in ways she never thought she could.

For the first time in her life, Atiya is more than an observer.

"Okay," she says. He beams at her and she smiles back.

"If you think it will be fun."

**To be continued.**

**Please read and review- thanks!**


	3. Atiya (end)

**A/N: **More than 15,000 words later... this took a while for me to write because of all the little scenes and snippets I wanted to include. And then of course, I had to cut a lot of it out because it was simply getting too long (a.k.a. the Stephen King syndrome).

I hope you like it. The ending here is a bit different from what I originally intended but I think it works better than a "happily ever after" ending or "and they all died" ending. Also, this was never really meant to be a romance. In a touchy-feely sense, this is a story about a girl trying to figure out who she is.

Happy reading! Let me know what you think.

**And in the Darkness Bind Them**

**Atiya (continued)**

**I.**

Over the years, people have told her she is beautiful and lovely. They compliment her eyes, the shape of her lips, the curve of her cheeks. They shower her with poetry and promises, sweet words meant to entice and entrance, to lure her into their open arms or their beds.

But words never meant much to Atiya; least of all when it came to her vanity.

She remembered the first time she'd seen herself in a mirror. Her sister had stood beside her, excited and gleeful, and told her to _look, look at your face, my darling. _

Atiya had seen nothing worth praising.

She was pale and thin and looked as if she'd been painted with watercolors. Talia was vibrant and bright beside her. There was nearly no resemblance between them.

_You are perfect,_ Talia said, circling her waist with an arm and leaning her head on Atiya's smaller shoulder. _You see now? How like a doll you are. You see why we have to protect you?_

Atiya only saw how blind with love her sister was. She never bothered to pay attention to such words again.

When John comes to pick her up on the night of the fundraiser, he stops at her open doorway and stares.

He says nothing.

He reaches out and his fingertips brush her face with the faintest touch, so light it makes her shiver. He looks at her with wide, dark eyes and barely parted lips, studying her with an expression of pure and simple _wonder_. When he smiles Atiya feels warm all over, despite the early spring chill.

He doesn't tell her how pretty she is. He doesn't use any of the meaningless, unimportant words she's heard before.

John says nothing.

And yet the way he looks at her makes her believe, for the first time, that she is worth seeing.

**II.**

True to his word, John wears a rented tux and they spend the night dancing.

The fundraiser is held at Gotham's most celebrated hotel and Atiya marvels at the gold-gilded walls and marble columns inside the ballroom.

"This is subtle," John says as he guides them to their table. But he smiles widely, dimples showing, as he takes in the lavish spread of food and the seemingly endless flow of champagne.

Atiya takes a small sample of everything, delighted especially by the rich cakes and tiny confections, and John charms away the curious who approach her asking for her _name_, _what_ she does, _who_ she is.

"It's the dress," he teases her, as they dance. "I mean, you're not exactly hard to look at but really, it's the dress."

Atiya laughs. She wears a silver gown that a dressmaker in Milan had crafted especially for her and the silk and satin rustle faintly when she moves. She'd worn it to a masquerade ball where she learned how to dance, how to lead without leading, in the arms of men who could only see the lower half of her face.

John is a terrible dancer. He steps on her feet and bumps into the other couples, apologizing sheepishly each time he does. He grips her hand too tightly and twirls her too many times to count, but Atiya cannot remember a time when she'd been happier.

When they are home and sated in bed, when John presses himself against her bare back with his arms around her, Atiya thinks to herself that her life is finally _good_, that it is as near perfect as it will ever be and she falls asleep with a smile on her lips for the first time in years.

And later, _much_ later, Atiya will remember the night as the last time she was truly happy.

**III.**

She feels the first prickle of unease on her way to work the morning after.

It begins as a tingle at the back of her neck and she turns around, mid-step on the sidewalk, looking for the source of the feeling. She begins to shiver as she looks around herself, studying the faces of the other people and half-expecting to find a solitary figure in the midst of the crowd, seen only by her.

After a moment, Atiya draws in a deep breath and tries not to run to the orphanage in a panic.

It doesn't go away.

For days, the feeling lingers. Almost everywhere she goes, she can feel the tingle at the back of her neck that she knows all too well. Atiya knows what it means. She is well acquainted with the feeling; she spent the first part of her life hiding her face under rags to avoid it.

_Someone is watching me._

Atiya knows what it's like to have people look at her. She knows what it feels like to have the weight of someone's gaze on her, heavy like a physical thing.

She feels as if she is being haunted-

_Hunted_

-by a phantom. She tries to continue living her life as she did before but she can't help drawing inward as the weeks pass and the feeling doesn't go away.

It makes John worry, that she wants to stay home all the time now, that she eyes people with suspicion and cringes when strangers accidentally brush against her on the rare occasion they do go out.

"Did I do something?" he asks her one night as he changes out of his uniform. He sits at the edge of the bed in his slacks and undershirt and covers his face with his hands. "You'd tell me, wouldn't you? If there was something I need to fix? If I'm not… if I'm not being good?"

It's a little boy's fear, that the orphan he was, the man he is, expects the people he loves to leave him and she lets him cling to her, trying to comfort him without telling him the truth.

Even as he apologizes for nothing she looks out at the night through the window and wonders what or who it is that studies her so closely.

**IV.**

A month passes and Father Reilly comes to her again, smiling as he holds out a card.

"This came over the weekend," he says brightly. "Hand-delivered. It looks like you made quite an impression on Miranda Tate last month. She's invited you to her next soiree."

Atiya takes the invitation and stares at it, confused. Her first name is embossed in silver, each letter curved perfectly.

There is no last name.

"By the way, I've been meaning to ask but never got the chance to," he continues. "How was the fundraiser? I trust you and John had fun? What was Miranda like? I've only seen her in passing, once when I had to go to City Hall for some papers. Apparently she hates getting her picture taken but she's lovely in person."

Atiya traces her name with a fingertip and then looks up at Father Reilly, feeling cold all over.

"I wouldn't know," she says.

Her voice sounds so faint that she thinks it can't really be hers.

"I've never met her."

**V.**

Miranda Tate is a philanthropist.

Miranda Tate built a successful business from the ground up.

Miranda Tate finances technology to help the world. Her money is spent on alternative energy sources and medical support for third world countries. She backs research for disease prevention and lost a not-considerable amount on a failed project led by Bruce's company.

Miranda Tate arrived in Gotham exactly one year after, to the day, Ra's was killed.

As she did nearly two years before when she first learned of her family's death, Atiya throws herself into research, drawing on old contacts she made during her travels and tracks down news articles about the mysterious Miranda Tate.

She learns everything she can about her business deals but almost nothing about the woman herself. Aside from snippets of interviews, all Atiya knows is that Miranda grew up poor and has a passion for humanitarian efforts.

"_Tate becomes emotional when asked about her inspiration," _Atiya reads from an article several years old.

"_She cites her younger sister as being the reason for her drive towards a better world._

'_My sister believes in finding the good in people,' says Tate. 'I work to build a legacy, something that she can be proud of.'"_

Atiya feels lightheaded as she closes the article. She walks on unsteady feet towards her bedroom and picks up the burlap bear from her side table.

She doesn't know what to think, what to believe anymore.

_I work to build a legacy._

Atiya feels dread as remembers the words-

_And our children, and our children's children will be heirs to our legacy._

John finds her hours later at the foot of her bed on the hard floor, clutching the bear to her chest like a lifeline.

**VI.**

Downtown Gotham is a world apart from the neighborhood where the orphanage stands.

Slick, shiny people with their slick, shiny cars whiz by Atiya as she makes her way down the busy streets. She no longer looks at the people around her. The feeling of being watched still weighs heavy on her shoulders but now Atiya thinks she knows the source. There is no need to wonder anymore.

When she reaches her destination, she walks through tall glass doors into a sleek lobby. Before she reaches the front desk though, she is approached by a man in a suit.

"Miss Mason," he says, holding out his hand. "You've been expected for some time now. Please come with me."

His accent gives his words a slight lilt and it reminds her-

_I would make you a thousand dolls now, if it could take away even a fraction of your pain._

-of the way another voice use to say her name. Atiya studies the man, at the tailored cut of his jacket and his clean-shaven face and wonders if she's seen him before.

"Do I have a choice?" she asks mildly.

The man tilts his head, deferent, and lowers his hand. "Always. You are not to be pushed."

"I find that hard to believe," she says, knowing that even if she walks away now she can no longer run. There is no safe place for her anymore.

He leads her to an elevator, smaller than the others and requiring the swipe of his badge, and remains silent on the ride up. There are no buttons or lights and when the elevator stops and the doors open, Atiya is uncertain of how high they are.

The man gestures for her to exit but before she does, Atiya turns to him and asks, "What's your name?"

"My name is Tavin." It unsettles her, the way he looks at her, as if she is something to be exalted.

"You're not from Gotham, are you?"

He smiles. "No, I am not."

She turns away, not wanting to ask where he is from, not wanting to know the answer.

The elevator leads directly into a room- a large office compromised mainly of windows. Bookcases line the walls and there is a leather settee with matching armchairs in one corner, bordered by large, leafy plants.

In the center of the room is a dark mahogany desk atop a rich, Persian rug but despite the elegant surroundings, Atiya only has eyes for the woman that stands before her.

_Miranda Tate._

"I knew you'd come," the woman says with outstretched arms. "When I saw you there, at my fundraiser, I wanted to go to you right away but Barsad said you would come of your own accord if I just waited. And I did. I waited so long. My darling, my clever Atiya, I knew you'd come!"

_Talia._

Before Atiya gives into the shock, her last clear thought is-

_Sister._

**VII.**

"You're dead."

Atiya says the words over and over again when she can speak again. Each time, Talia shakes her head, gripping her hands tightly.

"I left our father before the traitor destroyed our home. So many of our brethren perished but we survived. And now we'll make sure that our father's murderer is brought to justice."

Atiya feels numb as she looks at her sister's face. Her hair is longer and her face is fuller and she is _perfect_. Talia looks like a queen, regal and graceful and _alive_.

Atiya says, "You're dead."

"No, little sister. Listen to me."

Talia tells her about Bane, about how their father cast him out-

"_Father would have ordered his death. Our protector, how could I allow such a thing to take place?"_

-and how Talia and Barsad and a few of the faithful followed after him. With tears in her eyes, she tells Atiya how long she'd searched for her, how frantic she'd been to find her and how she never gave up hope of their reunion.

"_I was so afraid for you. So afraid that you'd get lost in this world, lost without me or Bane by your side._

"_But then I saw your face, like a miracle, like something out of a dream. You were dancing. You were laughing. It was as if every hope I'd dared to have was finally coming true."_

Talia runs her hands over Atiya's face as she speaks, touching her arms and shoulders and hands. It is as if she cannot quite believe that Atiya is beside her and it doesn't take long before Atiya feels suffocated, trapped in the large room with its floor-to-ceiling windows and wide open spaces.

"I mourned you," she whispers. "I let you go."

_I loved you and I hated you._

_I buried you._

Talia kisses her cheeks and murmurs words of reassurance. She tells her that they are together now and they will never be parted again. Talia promises her that she will never let Atiya go.

And Atiya can only say, "You're dead."

But what she really means is-

_I thought I was free._

**VIII.**

Talia tries to make Atiya move in with her. She tries to make Atiya change her life.

"I have a home for us," she says. "You can have your own floor. We can recreate your lab, if you want. Whatever you want now, I can provide."

But Atiya has everything she wants.

It is the things she doesn't want that make her frightened.

She goes home that night, prying herself from Talia's reluctant grasp and when she sees John sitting in her living room she clings to him, pressing her face against his chest.

"Hey, you're shaking. Did something happen?" he says. But instead of pushing her away, his arms wrap around her tightly. "You went downtown or something today, right?"

_Leave John out of this,_ she told Talia fiercely. _Don't you touch him._

_As long as he stays out of my way, _Talia had said but Atiya thinks of Dante, of his body buried somewhere cold and lonely, miles and miles away from her.

"It's okay, whatever it is. It's okay," John says.

Atiya shakes her head and closes her eyes, even as he murmurs words of reassurance. Her past has come back for her and she is afraid, so afraid, that it has come for John as well. He is her new life; he represents a _happy_ life.

And she doesn't think she can let it go.

_You're mine,_ she whispers against his sweat-dampened skin that night. He moves over her, against her, and Atiya repeats the mantra in her head.

_This is where I belong now. _

_This is my life now. _

**IX.**

Days pass and she doesn't hear from Talia.

Atiya knows better than to relax. She knows that her sister is watching her now, always.

She falls into long spells of silence, speaking only when it is required of her. She tries to hide it from the children, to shield them, but it is useless to feign bravery in front of children who can see through lies.

They crowd around her during play time, the younger ones especially, seemingly content to play quiet games at her feet or on her lap. The older ones sit beside her almost protectively when they are outside in the yard and though they say nothing, Atiya knows when they look up at her with worried little glances.

John is switched from first shifts to third shifts and Atiya is left alone at night. She tries not to think about all the things that could happen to him, things that are possible in the darkness and it makes her nearly ill with worry.

One evening, as Atiya is putting away the remnants of her dinner- John's breakfast - there is a knock at her door. John has a key and Atiya invites no other visitors to her home so she stiffens, feeling a sick roll in her stomach as the sound echoes through her apartment.

_Something's happened to John._

_Someone's here to tell me he's gone. He's dead._

Almost robotically, she moves towards the door and peers through the peep hole. There is someone there, dressed in dark clothes, wearing a motorcycle helmet.

Atiya feels her heart stop for a breath.

_Father would have ordered his death._

_Our protector, how could I allow such a thing to take place?_

She's tried not to think about Bane since she left her sister's side. She knows that he was likely there, somewhere close by, even listening perhaps, but Atiya couldn't think about him when she had her sister to worry about, John to fret over.

She undoes the locks and steps back to let him in.

It can't be anyone else, really.

_Bane._

He seems bigger now, taking up more space than she remembers. Dressed in all black, he seems to tower over her as he stops in the center of her small living room and turns to face her.

And then he takes off the helmet.

Her breath is knocked out of her lungs and she clutches at her chest in shock, trying to force herself to _breathe. _

The mask he wears is larger than the one she fashioned for him. The tubes are thicker and she can tell from the strain in his neck that it is heavier as well. His hair is gone and she can see small scars, new and old, on the surface of his bare head.

He looks ageless. Timeless. Like something out of a nightmare, born fresh and new each night in the horrors of the mind.

It is Bane but it is not _her_ Bane. Not the Bane that rocked her to sleep at night when she was feverish and near death, or the one who told her stories and fashioned toys for her pleasure.

The man who stands before her is _Talia's_ Bane. Her idea of what their protector should be. There is no softness in him now, not even for her.

"You do not belong here."

His voice is amplified by his mask. His pale eyes, more blue than gray now, are unfeeling as he regards her.

Atiya wraps her arms around herself at the sudden chill. She says, "After all this time, those are your first words to me?"

His shoulders tense but Atiya doesn't move. Bane looks around her home and she sees his gaze linger on a set of framed photographs above the television.

"Does Talia know you're here?" she asks.

Bane turns back to her slowly. "Your sister doesn't control my every action. I am here because she fails to see the truth."

"What truth is that?"

"That you have no place with us." Bane gestures around him. "This is the home of the weak, of one who runs away like a child when her favorite toy is taken away. Your sister thinks that your place is by our side but why should you have what you don't deserve?"

Bane's words slice her open. They twist, sharp and tight in her chest, cutting her from the inside out and something dangerous and dark inside her stirs at the pain they cause.

"Dante was no toy."

As if from faraway, Atiya hears her voice grow cold and it sounds hard, so unlike herself.

"And I am not weak. I survived in the pit for seven years and no man laid a finger on me without my permission. I went out into the world and made a life for myself, by myself. I hid and neither you nor my sister could find me. This is _my_ home and I know what I deserve and where my place is."

Something in Bane's eyes shift, exposing a small crack in his stony exterior. For a moment, he is once again _her_ Bane and she realizes suddenly that he is afraid for her.

"You want me to leave Gotham," she says, taking a step towards him. "Why? What does my sister have planned? Her business is with Bruce."

"He is the city," Bane says. "Her business is one and the same."

Atiya falls silent, wondering.

"You don't belong in Gotham," Bane says. He walks past her with his helmet in hand and turns to her before he opens the door. "You have no place here. Go back into the light, Atiya. The shadows are not for you, not anymore."

She reaches out and puts her hand on his arm and she can feel the tremor that runs through him at her touch. It's been years since she last touched him, since he last saw her face and she can tell that he is not unaffected though he may pretend to be. He sways towards her like a beast suddenly tamed by her hand.

"I'm not afraid of the shadows. I never have been," she says. "You know that."

He looks at her for a long time and she allows it, tilting her chin up slightly.

Then he says, in a voice that is thick with desperation-

"Run, Atiya. You must _run_."

**X.**

Atiya stays.

Gotham is her home for better or worse, though it seems that there is more bad than good in the city as time passes.

John comes home in the mornings, tired and angry. There are things happening around them and Atiya is frozen inside, not knowing what she can or should do.

"We found a body in one of the sewer drains, one of the kids from the orphanage."

John leans on the kitchen counter as she pushes a cup of coffee towards him. She is getting ready for work and he looks weary and rumpled in his uniform. With his new hours, he no longer volunteers at the orphanage but he tries to make time for the children.

Atiya passes a hand over his face and he closes his eyes, leaning against her as if he has no strength left to hold him up. "I'm going with you this morning. I need to talk to his brother and Father Reilly."

Later, he rails against the death, saying it was unnecessary and preventable.

"The Wayne Foundation stopped funding the orphanage four years ago!" he slams his hand on the desk. "How could he? His parents… Wayne is an orphan, just like those kids. How could he turn his back on them?"

But Atiya hears the words he doesn't say.

_He was like me. I would have never turned my back on those kids._

"He lost a great deal of money a few years ago," Atiya says. She remembers the shade of the man Bruce Wayne had become, how lifeless and wasted he was. "And he's a man in pain. Sometimes we can't see beyond our own hurts. Sometimes we forget all that we have to offer because of what we've lost."

John looks as if she's betrayed him somehow.

"How do you know anything about him at all?"

She waves her hand at the television, muted now as they speak. She's been watching more news lately, watching for signs of her sister's hand.

"Yeah, and what do they know about him?" John says angrily. "Wayne can help. He's the… he can _do _things that no one else can. And instead of that, he hides out in his mansion and pretends none of this exists."

Atiya thinks about Bruce. His frail voice as he spoke of Rachel was full of pain and loss; it was one of the reasons why Atiya never sought retribution for her father's life. Bruce had given up on himself because he believed his life was over with Rachel's death. The life he had so badly wanted for himself had been taken from his grasp.

Atiya knows what it is to have things taken away.

"Maybe I don't know anything about him," she says quietly. "But I know that things aren't always what they seem. Maybe he thinks that he has nothing left to give. Maybe he just wants to be left alone now."

John looks at her as if she makes no sense. "If you can stand up then you should do something, Atiya," he says. "If you have a voice, then you should use it. Not hide behind excuses. Just because you can't see beyond yourself doesn't mean that the rest of the world has disappeared. It just means you're being willfully blind."

John huffs out a breath and gets up from his desk, his face drawn and pinched.

Atiya looks down at her cup of tea.

She doesn't follow after him.

**XI.**

Talia begins to take her out to dinner, once, twice, three times a week.

Always during John's shifts.

(It makes her wonder how strong her sister's influence is over the city.)

They have to be discreet. Talia is playing a game on a bigger scale and Atiya is determined to keep out of it for John's sake. Sometimes they go out to restaurants where they eat at private tables, hidden from the eyes of other people. Talia makes her case then, gesturing to the crowd.

"Look at them, at their appetites," she says in disgust. "Draped in expensive clothes and jewels, their bellies never having known even a minute of _true_ hunger, and yet they are jealous of each other. Wanting what the others have, what little they lack.

"Did you notice at my fundraiser, little sister, the way they looked at you with such greed? They wanted what your John had even though he can't afford even a fraction of the toys they buy to amuse themselves. This is Gotham. You consider this _filth_ your home?"

Atiya looks at her sister, at the finery she wears, at her make-up and painted nails. It is the life she always wanted for Talia, to have food and wealth and love.

_Are you happy? _she wants to ask her. _Do you have everything you need now? _

Instead, Atiya puts her fork down. "And where else would I go?"

"With _me_," Talia says passionately. "With _Bane_. You belong with us, as you always have. I never begrudged you the experience of living out in the world but now you've done that. You've seen how evil it is, how wretched the people are- aren't you finished with them now? Don't you see what must be done?"

Atiya thinks about this and then nods at one of the servers.

"That's Michael. He and the rest of the kitchen staff bring leftovers to the orphanage every Saturday. Good food, not scraps. They also bring movies for the children to watch. They do these things not because it's expected of them but because they have good hearts."

"How few and scant these good hearts are," Talia snaps.

Atiya shrugs and looks back down at her plate.

She says, "How all the more precious they are then."

**XII.**

Yet Atiya can't help but think of her sister's words one night when she is attacked while walking home from the library.

There are three men, and they are not hungry or desperate. They merely see a pretty, seemingly defenseless girl and decide to strike.

Atiya is not afraid as they taunt her in the dark, empty street. She's encountered such creatures before and they all look alike to her. They all look-

_Like monsters._

-like fools. Thoughtless, stupid fools with no self-control.

Her father told once that, while she would likely never be strong enough to kill a man with her bare hands, true power doesn't rely solely on strength.

_There is more than one way to break a person, _he said as she worked in her lab so many years ago,_ and the least of all is through physical means. Destruction begins in the mind and in the heart. Sometimes, the least effort yields the greatest results._

When the men come too close, Atiya puts her gloved hand in her pocket and gathers up the powder that she keeps in a sack, breaking the protective seal placed there for such situations. It's summer now and her hands are sweaty but while her sister believes her to be an idealist, Atiya thinks she knows a little bit about the world and how it works.

And her library is located in a less-than-safe neighborhood.

One of them, a big burly man who would nonetheless look small next to Bane, rushes at her. She holds her hand out with her palm up towards the starry sky, takes a deep breath and blows the powder in his face.

He sputters, choking. She can see the doubt fill his eyes as he staggers back, confused.

A moment passes.

Then he _screams_.

Before she can turn her attention towards the other men, she hears two loud _pops_ and they fall to the ground like broken toys. A third _pop _and the screaming man, whose bleeding mouth continues to slough off from the inside, falls quiet.

Atiya drops her hand and lets out the breath she'd been holding as a precaution. For a moment, all she can hear is the thudding of her heart in her ears and she turns around to come face to face with Barsad.

For a moment she can only stare at him in shock.

He looks so normal, so average, wearing jeans and a black jacket, with a hat pulled low over his face. She sees the gun in his hand and he smiles at her, genuinely happy to see her, as he tucks his gun away.

"It's been too long, little sister. You are as clever as I remember." He looks at the bodies around them and makes an annoyed face. "And fast. I meant to handle them sooner but my weapon isn't meant for distances."

"You killed them," she says, eyes wide. "You could have just…"

Barsad raises an eyebrow and reaches for Atiya's gloved hands. She jerks back and he clicks his tongue at her.

"Can you honestly say that you meant them no harm?" he asks, confused. "That man's lungs look as if they are coming out of his mouth though he lies dead at our feet."

"He would have lived," Atiya says, but she looks away from Barsad.

"For how much longer?"

Atiya says nothing and Barsad steps forward again. He has a handkerchief in his hand and a small flask. Carefully, he takes her hand and begins to clean the powder off.

"You've been watching me." Atiya blinks in realization. He nods easily. "It was you all these months."

"Mostly," he says. "Sometimes we have the other men do so. It is an honor to watch over you, Ra's youngest child."

"But you left with Bane and my sister when father excommunicated him."

Barsad nods again and wipes her hand dry before letting it go. "That doesn't mean we didn't believe in his cause or his vision. Bane is my brother. I could not leave him to suffer alone but my purpose is with the League."

He stops and looks up at her face, putting his hand on her shoulder. "As is yours."

Atiya looks around them, at the cooling bodies on the ground and Barsad tugs her forward, forcing her to walk quickly in the other direction. "No, we can't, they're-"

"They're _dead_. Our men will handle them," Barsad says, sounding amused. His hand is strong around her arm and she struggles to keep up with him. "Is this what you seek to save? Talia has told me of your conversations. It's admirable, that you can hold hope for their redemption but you waste your breath on those who do not deserve it."

"That's not for you or me to judge."

"No?" Barsad says. "And yet you carry poison in your hand, one that doesn't merely incapacitate but tears a man from the inside out. Is that not judgment? That you would choose who lives and who dies?"

"They would have hurt me," Atiya says weakly. "Three against one- that isn't fair."

"And if it had been just one, would you have done differently?" Barsad asks lightly. He pats her forearm. "What would you have done if it had just been one man?"

"I was protecting myself."

"And we work to protect the world."

"Protect it from what? From Gotham?" Atiya asks. She looks at Barsad, hearing the bustling sounds of cars and people growing louder as they reach a busy intersection. "You want to destroy an entire population because of a few bad people."

"You have it the other way around," Barsad says. He lets her go and gestures towards the streets ahead. "There are only a few good people here, the rest are as rotten as those who sought to harm you just now. We will mourn their good souls afterwards. Cauterizing a wound hurts but it is the only way to keep the whole healthy. You've heard all of this before, you know what we do. It is done out of mercy. We work to restore balance."

_Run, Atiya. You must run._

She'd never gone on their campaigns so she doesn't know how things are usually conducted. But Talia has been in Gotham for longer than she has; whatever it is the League plans to do, it has taken time. If it were as Barsad says, about _balance_, then Gotham would have been destroyed much sooner and much more quickly.

_She means to draw this out,_ Atiya thinks, staring at the distance.

It was always Talia's way.

"Bane doesn't want me here," she says, glancing at Barsad.

He sighs though his expression is warm. "Bane seeks to protect you as he always has. He would rather keep your eyes shielded and your hands clean. He and Talia fight over you but their arguments come from the same place. Love."

"He thinks I should run." Atiya pushes away the little flutter of hurt she feels. "He told me I have no place here."

Barsad looks at her with a faint, yet oddly sweet smile.

"When we saw you again, at Talia's party, Bane told your sister to let you be. He tried to convince her that we could find a way to have you leave Gotham without showing our hand. Of course, he knew he was speaking in vain but he tried, nonetheless.

"He forgets that you are not of this world. That you belong with us."

Barsad tilts his head down, as if in a little bow.

"This work is in your blood; you were born to it. Your hands were made for it. I understand that you are frightened to be heir to such a glorious purpose but it is yours, little sister. You mustn't be afraid of it anymore. You must _rise_."

He leaves before she can say anything else and she stares after him, thoughtful.

**XIII.**

A few weeks pass and John comes to see her in the middle of the afternoon, nearly vibrating with excitement.

Atiya pulls him into the staff kitchen to hear his news.

"Commissioner Gordon promoted me to detective," he says, smiling so hard his cheeks turn pink, "I was at the hospital and I told him about all the research I'd done on those construction projects I told you about, remember? Anyway, he says I report directly to him now. You should have seen Foley's face when he said it."

Atiya smiles back at him and smooths down the collar of his jacket.

"But now you won't get to wear the uniform," she says, trying to sound put out. John laughs brightly. He wraps his arms around her waist, lifting her off her feet and twirling her around before setting her down.

"I knew you only liked me for the uniform."

"We should celebrate," Atiya says and John nods, pressing a soft kiss against her mouth before letting her go.

"Absolutely," he says. He straightens and then takes a step back. "First, I have to settle some unfinished business."

Atiya looks at him curiously and he shrugs. "I'm going to go see Wayne. It's nothing you have to worry about but do me a favor, will you?"

She stares at him for a moment, considering his words before she decides that what John says or does with Bruce is none of her concern. For some reason, perhaps it is because of their similar backgrounds, John sees Bruce as some sort of extension of himself and Bruce has disappointed him somehow. It's something he will need to work on; it's not Atiya's place to ask.

Besides, she's more worried about _Talia's_ business with Bruce than John's.

Atiya nods at him.

He says, "I need you to keep an eye on the older kids, especially the ones about to get aged out. Rumor is there's work to be found underground. I'm not sure what's going on yet but just… just make sure you keep them away from whatever is happening down there."

He lets out a heavy sigh.

"Gordon keeps talking about a man in a mask, did I tell you that? He saw him when he was taken."

John hardly talks about his work beyond a few details and this is all new information. Atiya freezes, her mind whirling, and she goes through the motions of seeing John out before she slips back behind her desk. She waits a few hours before feigning ill and makes her way downtown, heading straight for her sister's building.

As expected, Tavin appears the moment she steps through the doors. He smiles and asks, "I believe Miss Tate is in a meeting but I'm sure she'll step out if-"

Atiya cuts him off in a low voice. "Not my sister. I need to see _him_ now."

Tavin falters but something in her face must push him along because he tells her to wait. In a few moments, she is being guided by two men out of the building and into a dark car.

Atiya looks out of the tinted window flanked by her sister's men. She thinks-

_I expected more from you._

**XIV.**

"You brought her here?"

Bane's voice sounds almost like a roar and Atiya watches as some of the men shrink back. She is underneath the city, that much she can tell, after being blindfolded and led through tunnels. The sound of rushing water echoes all around her and there is no sunlight to be found.

It reminds her of her childhood and Atiya knows this is why Bane's eyes flash with rage at the sight of her in this place.

"I'm not afraid." She says the words from that first night he came to her. Bane turns to her, his hands curling and uncurling with barely restrained frustration.

He is better at hiding himself and Atiya knows that she unsettles him, that her very presence strips him bare and leaves him raw and unprotected.

She knows this because it is how she feels, standing before him now.

"You should not be here," he says to her. He looks back at his men and growls. "Leave us."

They scatter into the darkness and Atiya stares after them. "Not all of them are of the League."

Bane shakes his head and walks towards a desk illuminated by lamps. She sees a small bed beside the desk and the sight of it makes her chest hurt.

_You let him come back to this place, sister? _

"Do you sleep here?"

"I watch to ensure that the men, the ones not ours, obey," Bane says. His arms are bare and she can see the lines of a brace underneath his vest. "Barsad or I stay here, one or the other at all times."

He raises his arm and gestures at the debris of construction around them. "But none of this is your concern. You've made yourself clear to your sister and I listen though she may not. You want nothing to do with us? Then go; this isn't your place. You've turned your back on us before, it should be easy for you a second time."

_He and Talia fight over you but their arguments come from the same place._

_Love._

She walks towards him but stops a few feet away. "It makes you angry, doesn't it? To see me back in the darkness. You say cruel things to make me leave. But hurting me isn't going to accomplish anything. I'm not going until I've said my piece."

Bane stares at her and she can see the weariness in his eyes, the _want_ in them as well the fear. Then his eyes grow cold again, shuttered from all feeling.

"Why are you here?" he asks.

"I was a child and you took care of me. Yet now you use children to further your _work_, discarding them afterwards like so much trash, their bodies thrown away as if they didn't matter."

She pauses, frowning. "That's beneath you."

"Such lofty words from someone who claims no judgment over others," Bane says sharply.

She closes her eyes briefly before saying, "Whatever anger you have now towards me, please, put it aside and listen. Can you do that?"

He says nothing and she takes another step forward, trying to compose herself.

"They are orphans. Do you choose them because no one will care if they disappear?" Atiya asks. She thinks of John… but mostly she thinks about herself and how alone she would have been without Bane. "How cold you are now. How heartless. What have the years done to you, if you could think this way towards a child that has nothing else left to them?"

"I was thrown in the pit when I was younger than these so-called children," Bane says and Atiya stares at him in surprise. He has never told her about his life before. "In the eyes of many, they are men."

"I'm sorry. I never knew that about you. I'm so sorry," Atiya says earnestly. "But that doesn't make it right."

"And how would you have me fulfill our need for workers?" Bane asks. He looks down on her as if he stands from a great height away. "These _children_ come to us. We provide them with shelter. With work. We only punish those who stray."

Atiya thinks for a moment and then raises her hands. "If you need hands, use mine. Let me offer you my labor in place of another. It's a fair enough payment, isn't it?"

Bane's eyes widen slightly and he shakes his head.

"Why do you say no?" Atiya pushes on. "If it's just about finding able bodies, I'm sure you could find some use for me-"

"Get out!"

Bane has never, ever raised his voice at her. Not once when she was a girl nor when they lived in her father's home. He never even scolded Talia when she spat at him and scratched at his eyes to keep him away.

Atiya flinches but holds her ground.

"Then promise me you won't use them anymore," Atiya says. She swallows down her pride and begs him. "I'll do anything you want, anything _Talia_ wants, if you just promise me."

Something flits over his eyes, some unnamable emotion, and she's startled when he reaches out and grabs her arm, pulling her towards one of the tunnels. With a light shove, he forces her into a long, dimly lit corridor and points down the end of it.

"Agam will show you out," he says. Even behind his mask, his voice sounds thick, rough with feeling. "Your offer is worthless. I promise you nothing."

When Atiya doesn't move, Bane grabs her again and pulls her down the tunnel with such force that it seems her feet barely touch the ground. She doesn't fight him but only looks up at his face when he pushes her towards a man waiting at the end.

"Cover her eyes and take her up. Don't let her find her way back."

When she is home she'll take off her sweater to find no bruises on her arm, nothing to show that Bane ever laid a hand on her.

**XV.**

Talia is _furious_.

She comes to Atiya's home while John is away working late and paces back and forth like a caged lion. That her sister knows when John is out tells her much about how closely she is being watched.

"How dare he humiliate you in front of our men, force you out where you should rightly tread!"

"You put him back into a pit, Talia," she says quietly. "Must he stay there like that?"

Talia stops and looks at her with a suddenly soft expression; the change is so swift that Atiya is unsettled.

"He mourned you as if you had died," Talia says. "All those years apart, he loved you so and now he treats you like this?"

She moves towards Atiya and cups her face in her hands. "And despite this, you still worry over him. Our work in Gotham will be completed in a matter of months and we shall repair the fracture between you. There is still hope."

Atiya stiffens.

"What do you mean? When? How?"

Talia smiles indulgently, running her thumb over Atiya's cheek but she pulls her sister's hands away from her face. She's never asked for specifics about her sister's plan for Gotham, but Atiya has had enough. "Talia, what do you mean?"

"Just a few more months, Atiya," she says. "Then we can leave this place once and for all."

"I told you. I'm not going anywhere."

"And I keep telling you. Your place is by my side."

_Not merely stubborn. You're delusional._

Atiya moves away from Talia. "I understand you want to settle things with Bruce Wayne but why draw this out for so long? _Eight_ _years_, Talia. You speak of justice but true justice pays back in equal measure and this is no such thing. I should expose you for what you are and end this mockery once and for all."

It's a throwaway line and Atiya doesn't mean it, not really. She loves Talia as much as she hates what she's done and would protect her no matter what her faults are. But before she can say anything, Talia's face changes again and a cold light enters her pale eyes, even as she smiles at Atiya.

"I thought your precious John meant more to you than that. Was I wrong?"

Talia was never patient with Dante. She made her thoughts known almost daily about Dante's place, which was _away_ from Atiya. For a while now, Atiya hasn't really questioned why her sister remains quiet about John when she knows full well that Talia believes he has taken Bane's rightful position.

It was foolish to hope that Talia wouldn't have her own use for him.

_Collateral. _

John is a security measure.

Talia's smile grows larger and she reaches out again for her sister, grazing her knuckles over the side of her face. "It's so simple. You do nothing and nothing happens. Easy, isn't it?"

_Just because you can't see beyond yourself doesn't mean that the rest of the world has disappeared. _

_It just means you're being willfully blind._

"Easy," Atiya repeats dully and Talia looks satisfied.

She moves towards the door, pulling on her coat as she does. Before she walks out, she looks back at Atiya with a serious expression on her face.

"Stay away from downtown tomorrow, my darling. Things will get a bit chaotic there in the afternoon."

**XVI.**

The footage of the chase is repeated on every channel for days afterwards.

"Batman," John says with a faint grin. He straightens the knot at his throat and then presses his tie flat against his chest as he watches the morning news. "It's about time he came back."

Atiya sits on the edge of the couch and stares at the men on the motorcycles. The screaming, terrified faces of their hostages are shown in tight close-ups.

Batman's cape flutters behind him like wings and she whispers, "'The day is done, and the darkness falls from the wings of night.'"

It is a snippet of something she heard examined once at Oxford. She remembers the crisp fall air of that time, the smell of leather and denim and the cold hard press of the auditorium seat at her back.

John looks at her in surprise. "What was that?"

"Poem," she says faintly. "Wordsworth."

She watches as one of the bike riders turns away from the rest of the group. The police cars drive past him with the Batman in their sights.

_Little boys always chasing after the wrong thing._

"It's pretty. 'Wings of night.' I like it," he says after a moment. He sits down beside her on the couch and presses his lips against her cheek. "You get any sleep last night? You were tossing and turning up a storm."

She lowers her head and closes her eyes, savoring the warm press of John beside her.

"I slept fine." Atiya opens her eyes and looks at him. "You're going to be late."

John doesn't look convinced but he stands up and grabs his jacket from a chair. "I should be home by seven unless something pops up."

"Have there been any more bodies?" Atiya asks suddenly. She looks back at the television. "Children. Have you found anyone else?"

"No, fortunately," he says. "Not for weeks. Why do you ask? Did you hear something from the kids?"

Atiya shakes her head. She knows it doesn't mean anything; Bane may still be using the children but at least there haven't been more deaths.

"I was just worried."

"It's because you're a good person," John says. She can hear the affection in his tone, the _pride_.

"We need more people like you in Gotham."

**XVII.**

Days later, Atiya stares down at the headlines that grace the front page of the papers.

_Miranda Tate now head of Wayne Enterprises._

_From Billionaire to Beggar: The Fall of Bruce Wayne_

She feels shame as she listens to people talk about him on the street- the way some of them crow over what they think to be a just punishment for a man they don't truly know. She stays near John as much as she can, trying to keep her sister from coming to her but one night she feels too agitated, too full of thoughts to stay still.

She goes out in the dark, wrapping her jacket tightly around her against the late summer chill and feels eyes on her almost immediately. She stands in an empty street and looks up at the night sky, which is too cloudy to show the stars. She is a target, an unarmed slip of a creature, an open invitation for those that lurk in the shadows.

Atiya doesn't have to wait long.

"I have no doubt you can take care of yourself," Barsad says as he walks towards her. "But this is far too obvious for you."

"I want to see him."

To his credit, he doesn't ask who or smirk knowingly. He simply nods and Atiya follows silently behind him, noiseless as a cat. She is blindfolded again, Barsad's apologetic face being the last thing she sees, and when her eyes are uncovered Bane is looming before her in a plain, windowless room.

"What does she mean to do to Bruce?" Atiya asks. "To the city? What is it that makes you want me to go?"

Bane studies her for a moment with his flint-colored eyes before he reaches up and curls his hands on the inner edges of his vest. His arms bulge at the movement.

"If she doesn't see fit to tell you then why should I?"

"Because you're the one who can see a different life for me. You're the one who always wanted to see me freed."

Though nothing about him changes, she can feel him weaken at her words.

"I know I hurt you when I left. But it made you happy, didn't it? To think that I escaped. Did you really search for me as hard as Talia said?"

Bane says nothing but she knows that a little more of his hard exterior cracks and falls, like a stone wall does with time.

"I think," Atiya says, "that even now, you want to keep me safe. But I won't leave this city, Bane. I built my new life here. So what should I expect?"

"Gotham will be destroyed." Bane's voice seems loud in the small room but it is still somehow elegant, not harsh. "If you leave on your own account, then you will not be forced to leave with us."

She thinks for a moment and then asks, "Would that be such a bad thing, that I end up back with all of you?"

Bane closes his eyes and draws in a breath. It looks like a struggle, like something painful.

"You chose to stay with me, when you could have escaped as your sister had. You chose to stay captive. You should have been free. You should have had a different life. You still can. There is still time for you."

Bane lowers his hands and Atiya sees in him someone who has had to grow hard, colder than his true nature, because of circumstances beyond his control. She sees a man who will try to fight against a rising tide for the things he believes in.

"Your father was right in not wanting to chain you to me. I have served as your shackles for long enough. I only wish I had the strength to let you go before."

"Is that what you think?" Atiya asks, surprised. "That you held me prisoner?"

Bane says nothing.

"If I thought you would have come with me…" Atiya trails off. It is only the truth. It wasn't Bane she ran from.

"I wouldn't have gone," he says.

She's always known that to be true as well. Atiya hadn't asked because she knew Bane would have seen himself as a burden, with his injuries and his mask.

Then she asks the question she's held inside for years. It is one she's turned over in her mind, searching for an answer and hoping for one that she is afraid is false.

"Did you have a part in it?" she asks, in a soft voice. "Were you there when Dante… when Talia…"

"I played no part in that tragedy," he says quickly. Then Bane looks away, unable to meet her eyes. "But I suspected and did nothing to stop it."

Despite the latter part of his confession, the relief is so strong that Atiya staggers under the weight of it. She sags against the wall and Bane goes to her, lifting her up and pushing her down into the chair. He kneels at her feet and looks up at her. Up close she can see the sore, reddened skin at the edges of his mask.

For a long time they simply look at each other and she feels a small part of her inside being rebuilt, repaired by the knowledge that he is innocent of her sister's crime. He is entirely hers again, her protector, and she can _trust _him.

"Will you let me see?" she asks, running her fingers against his face. His skin is warm and soft and it is just as she remembers it.

Wordlessly, he reaches up and undoes the clasps at his cheeks. He lowers his gaze as she examines him.

Before her are traces of the man she knew once, with his scars and crooked teeth. His skin is dry and she thinks it must hurt, the cracks on his lips and around the twists of his face.

"No one's taken care of you?" She touches the skin around his mouth as lightly as she can.

"I wash. I clean the wounds and the mask," he says. His voice is rich and lovely. It curls around his words and she leans forward to hear him better. "Everything beyond that is unnecessary."

Atiya takes a small container from her pocket. She had known she was going to see him tonight, had been counting on it when she stood in the street alone. She meant to give it to him as a gift, perhaps as an apology or forgiveness.

It doesn't matter now, in any case.

She unscrews the top and shows him the contents.

"Just a cream. Like the one I used before," she says in explanation but she knows that Bane would let her do as she would to him.

She rubs the cream into his face, watching his raw skin take in the much needed relief it provides and he closes his eyes again. When she is done, she holds his mask up to his mouth and watches closely as he secures it back to his face.

"I can't leave Gotham." Atiya thinks of John and of Talia and she smiles sadly at Bane. "You know that."

"Do you love him?"

Atiya hasn't yet told John but they are only words. What she feels for him isn't as desperate or new as it had been with Dante nor is it as intense and confusing as it is with Bane but it is still important. _John_ is still important.

_He is my new life._

"I was lost when I met him and he helped me find my way," she says finally. Bane nods as if he expected her response. "But he doesn't know who I am really. And I don't think he'd like me very much if he did."

She touches the tubes on his mask. "When there's time, I'd like to look at this. I think I can make it better for you if you'd let me."

"Anything." Bane's fingers wrap around her wrist. "Anything you want."

Atiya knows what he means and it has nothing to do with his mask.

**XVIII.**

Bruce disappears and Talia refuses to answer any questions about him.

When she asks Bane, he tells her, "It's better for you that you don't know."

"Did you kill him?" she asks.

He reaches out, covering her hands with his own. "He lives. That's all I'll say. This business does not touch you."

"You think being ignorant keeps me clean from this?"

She looks at his face and shakes her head.

"Make no mistake, Bane. His blood soils my hands, just as much as it does yours and Talia's."

**XIX.**

Things deteriorate quickly in Gotham.

Atiya is at work when a strong tremor knocks her to the floor. She struggles to her feet, hearing the frightened screams of the children and confused babble of her colleagues all around her.

"_Stay home tomorrow." _The missive from her sister had arrived the night before but Atiya ignored it thinking that if something happened to her, Talia should know the consequences of her actions.

She runs towards some of the children standing near a window and pushes them farther inside the building, looking outside as she does so. There are people running on the streets and water flowing from broken hydrants down the block. Dust and debris float in the air and there is a car on its side a few streets away.

Hurrying down the hall, she hears her mobile go off in her pocket and she pulls it out, fumbling slightly in her haste.

_What have you done, Talia?_

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" John sounds winded, breathless, and she can hear sounds of chaos on the other end. "Atiya, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she says, trying to keep her voice calm and even. One of the little boys- _Nathan, his name is Nathan_- runs towards her, crying, and she bends down to pick him up. "Where are you? What's happened?"

John's voice begins to break up and Atiya struggles to hear his words as she tries to comfort the little boy.

"The sewers—all the cops—underground— Stay there! I need to— but come get you—don't leave!"

"John, okay, I'll stay here," she says, trying to piece together his words. She drops her phone, considering it useless by then, and pulls Nathan to her chest, rubbing his back as he clings to her.

"It's scary, isn't it?" she says quietly in his ear, hugging him close. Nathan is rambunctious and happy, despite his hard life. Even when he falls, he doesn't cry and his hysterical weeping now frightens her, makes her feel helpless. "And it's okay to be scared, it's fine. But nothing will happen to you, I promise."

She feels his tears dampen her shirt and his fingers dig into her flesh and she wonders if he knows she's lying.

No matter how much she wants it be true, Atiya doesn't know what will happen to any of them anymore.

**XX.**

Despite her protests, John practically drags her from the orphanage and into a car where she finds Commissioner Gordon sitting in the backseat looking worn and ashen. She listens to them talk about the explosion at the stadium and the men trapped underground, and she can't help but think about the construction that Bane and Barsad were focused on for the past few months.

"You're staying here now," John tells her when they reach his home. She says nothing though she doubts Talia will allow her out of reach, especially when she realizes Atiya disobeyed her.

She wanders into his bedroom, shuts the door, and sinks down to the floor, trying to think through the mayhem that her sister has caused. This is what Atiya's silence bought and she feels weighed down with guilt.

She hears voices and then the television and she crawls on her hands and knees to press her ear against the door.

"_Gotham needed a hero."_

"_It needs it now more than ever. You betrayed everything you stood for."_

Atiya listens to John berate Gordon. She knows well enough who he is- James Gordon, who had asked her to call him _Jim_ with a small smile. He is John's idol, a cornerstone on which he built his life's work and though the commissioner may not notice it, Atiya can hear the betrayal in John's voice- the _pain._

She stares down at her own hands, clean and spotless, and closes her eyes.

**XXI.**

The occupation of Gotham begins.

"We're almost done," Talia says, bright and joyful. "It's almost over. And then we'll be home, all of us, once again, finally finished of this business."

Barsad smiles at Atiya and then turns to her sister, and she watches as they whisper to each other, laughing softly. They look so happy that Atiya looks away.

Beside her, Bane places a tentative hand on her shoulder.

_But this is my home._

She says nothing.

**XXII.**

Weeks later, Atiya finds herself at odds with John over Gordon's actions regarding the Batman.

She knows the strain is getting to John. Each day he watches over his fellow officers, still trapped underground, and tries to avoid being spotted by Bane and his men on the streets. For all he does though, Gordon shoulders on as well, stoic and steady despite the judgment John sees fit to weigh him down with.

"You just don't get it," John says. He gestures out to the window. "Gordon let Batman take the fall and look what it's led to. The Dent Act and our fucked up justice system. What's happening out there is only one of the consequences of what he's done."

Atiya says, "Jim did what he could do to keep Gotham safe."

"He lied to this entire city for eight years." John exhales loudly, running his fingers through his hair. "At any time he could have said something but instead he let an innocent man take the blame for something he didn't do. He willingly made a hero into a villain. That's pretty unforgiveable in my book."

"You don't think Jim deserves to be forgiven?" Atiya asks, studying John closely. "Despite everything else he's done, this one act-"

"Is pretty reprehensible," John cuts her off.

"It's easy to judge the actions of someone else when-"

"Bane and his men have our city on lockdown," he says angrily. "You think _they_ shouldn't be judged? There are people out there who are using this opportunity to terrorize their neighbors, to hurt other people- just because they can. Do you really think that _that_ isn't difficult to judge?"

"So you'd tar Jim with the same brush?" she asks. "You consider him just as a bad?"

"We all have choices, Atiya. When I was growing up…" John trails off and then shakes his head. "Look, there are things I could have done that would have made my life easier, but I didn't. I _didn't _because I knew right from wrong. Doing the right thing may be harder but it's a hell of a lot easier than doing the wrong thing and cleaning up the mess afterwards."

Atiya falls silent.

John crosses his arms over his chest and looks at her expectantly. "I've been through things you wouldn't understand. Sometimes, things really are just black and white. We choose sides. Every time we make a decision, we're choosing a side. Good or bad; you're either one or the other."

_But sometimes the side chooses us._

Atiya looks down at her hands and swallows down a lump that has formed in her throat. She tells herself that John is stressed, that he's frustrated and tired and worried about everything around them. But she can hear the conviction in his voice, the absolute certainty behind his words. These are things he's thought about. These are his core beliefs.

And according to him, she falls squarely on one side of the line and he on the other.

_What would you think of me, if you knew what I've done?_

_If you knew who I truly am._

"I haven't always lived in Gotham," Atiya says, standing up. She looks at him, trying to carve the lines and curves of his face into her mind so that she remembers, will always remember what he looks like.

"Yeah?" He frowns, uncrossing his arms. "I know that."

"I've been through things you wouldn't understand," she says his words back to him, seeing his frown grow deeper. "You don't know me. You've respected my… my boundaries regarding my past but if that's what you believe, that our actions can only be wrong or right, then you'll never really know me."

"Atiya, wait, I don't-"

But she doesn't listen to him as she moves towards her bedroom, needing to be away from John, needing to not feel his eyes on her.

_He doesn't know who I am. _

_And I don't think he'd like me very much if he did._

**XXIII.**

"Do you think we can change who we are, our purpose in life?"

Father Reilly looks up at her, eyebrows raised.

It is raining outside and the children are either napping or playing quiet games in the main room. Atiya and the scant few other caretakers left complete paperwork to ensure another week of rations for the orphanage.

They've had discussions of this nature over the past few weeks; they've spoken at length about numerous theological problems and though she knows Father Reilly worries about her, he's made no effort to satiate his curiosity. It's a comfort to know that he's willing to talk, to answer her questions without forcing his beliefs on her.

It's different with Talia.

It was different with John.

She signs her name at the bottom of a form. Bane's men know to look for it- the orphanage is allowed extra food and necessities though Atiya knows it's far from enough to adequately provide for the children.

"You're asking about free will."

She shrugs. "I'm wondering if you think we can move beyond who we are, what we were born to do."

"You mean could Jesus have been a carpenter if he wanted?"

Atiya smiles faintly, though the expression feels odd. She doesn't think she's smiled in weeks.

"Something like that."

Father Reilly sighs. "So many people have sought an answer to that for centuries. Do we truly have free will or is everything preordained? If there isn't free will, if our destiny is laid out for us, then why should we bother doing unto others, hm? Why shouldn't we simply do what we want, since our lives are out of our control anyway?"

"Everything we do then would lead us back to the same path," Atiya says, feeling worn-out. She plays with the pen and stares at her signature, her false name.

_This was supposed to be a new life. _

_My happy life._

"If that's what you believe," he says. "Free will is a gift but it is what we make of it. We're given a choice- live a purposeful life or be overcome. Lucifer was an angel once. He made a choice and fell from grace. _He_ changed who he was, he changed his purpose intentionally."

"But what if he was meant to fall? To provide the dichotomy between good and evil?" she asks. "What if he could no more choose a different path for himself than a leaf could fight against the wind?"

Father Reilly looks at her ruefully. "I believe that we have the power to change our path. That nothing is ever truly set in stone for us. The sinner can become a saint-"

"And the saint a sinner."

Father Reilly merely inclines his head but Atiya thinks it's answer enough.

**XXIV.**

The season changes and fall slowly edges towards winter.

Under watchful eyes, Atiya is mostly sheltered from the Blackgate criminals who run through the streets. Each week, food is delivered to her home by one of Bane's men and each week, she shoves most of it into bags and carries it to the orphanage, leaving a scant few necessities for herself. The rations they get are simply not enough and when Father Reilly is attacked coming back from the food trucks, Atiya begins bringing her own shares in.

He doesn't ask where she gets the extra food.

She wouldn't tell him if he did.

When the children's blankets become threadbare and worn, she takes in her own bedding and sleeps under her coat on the bare mattress in her bedroom. As the nights grow colder, Atiya shivers through her sleep, heat being a luxury that very few have now.

She turns John away when he comes to see her, which is still far too frequent for her comfort, but he refuses to let her go. He's worried about her, confused and bitter at her distance and he tries to persuade her to stay with him in his home, saying she would be safer there with him than alone.

(In her darkest thoughts, Atiya thinks it's almost funny that he is safer _without_ her.)

She knows that he keeps fighting against the growing terror and madness that threatens to overtake Gotham, trying vainly to find the truck that holds the bomb without being seen. She doesn't know if what he does will make a difference but she doubts her sister offers the city any true means of salvation.

Still, John fights. It is a noble cause, a _hero's_ cause, and Atiya feels as detached from him as she does from the others in the city.

By the time snow begins to fall in Gotham, Atiya remembers what it is like to be hungry.

She remembers what it is to be _angry_.

**XXV.**

Talia visits her less frequently but sends her notes and messages by way of their men; she still plays the part of Miranda Tate for deception's sake. Atiya knows on some level that a crucial part of her sister's plan is taking place.

It makes her so very, very tired.

The only one she sees with any regularity is Bane.

When hardly anyone, brave or foolish, dares to venture out, he goes to Atiya and keeps her company through the long nights. His presence is a comfort, a soothing balm to her fraying nerves and unraveling mind.

"Tell me something good." She leans against him on her bare mattress. "Tell me something with a happy ending."

Bane's arms tighten around her when she shivers. He's tried to give her blankets taken from the ransacked homes of the people he's displaced but she can't bear to use them, knowing that the former owners were likely tortured or killed.

It frustrates him to have her stay where she is. Like Talia, he's tried to take her away to hide in her sister's home where food and warmth and company are ever present.

Atiya is tempted but she thinks of Nathan and the other children. They have grown quiet and listless, no longer wanting to play games. Some of them are sick and she's had to rummage through the dwindling supplies of the abandoned neighborhood clinic for medicine.

The number of people that come to help them are growing fewer with each day; it makes Atiya bitter to think about it. It makes her-

_Angry._

-sad to know that so few are willing to help the innocent in Gotham.

Bane says, "In another life, you grew up safe and protected." With her cheek pressed against him, she can feel his voice rumble deep inside his chest. "Spoiled, raised in luxury. You have a soft bed to lie in every night and a view of the stars. You and Talia never quarrel."

She shifts slightly to look up at his face. He is staring at the burlap bear, still sitting on her bedside table.

"Your every desire would be fulfilled, no matter how small or how large they may be. _Want_ would merely be a concept, something others feel."

"Sounds like a boring life," she murmurs and his eyes crinkle when he smiles.

"Boring, but happy," he says. "You asked for a happy ending, not an adventurous one."

"True enough. Go on."

"You'd have children. A boy and a girl, perhaps. A family of your own, as would Talia. During the day you'd go to see your sister and watch your children play together. You'd sit and share a meal, never too far apart from one another. At night, you tuck your children into bed and tell them stories until they fall asleep."

Atiya sniffs, burrowing closer to him.

"And where are you in this happy life of mine?"

_Have you ever asked what would make him happy? What he sees when he thinks of the future?_

Despite his mask, his answer is so faint and so soft, Atiya can almost pretend she imagines it.

He says, "I would be in the next room, waiting for you to return to me."

**XXVI.**

One day Atiya asks Father Reilly, "Do you think people get what they deserve?"

He looks at her from his desk where he is going over the supply ledger and motions for her to sit down.

"It depends," he says, "on if you're asking about forgiveness or justice."

"Either one."

"That's the problem of heaven and hell." He takes off his glasses and studies her. "Eternal damnation for sins committed in one short life seems a bit harsh but forgiveness means that heaven would be shared by all, regardless of how someone lived. Should the person that struck you be struck down equally? Or should they be forgiven for harming an innocent woman?"

"You tell me, Father."

But she looks down, as if to hide her face. The bruise on her cheek is healing but the skin is still discolored and tender.

The day before she'd been walking to the orphanage with a box full of toys scrounged up from abandoned buildings, when a woman struck Atiya's face in an effort to take the box from her.

Atiya stumbled back but before she could regain her balance, one of Bane's men shot the woman in the head.

Her sister asked her-

"_Do you still think Gotham is worth saving? If these people could steal from the hands of children, then why should you defend them?"_

-and Atiya had fallen silent, no longer sure of where she stood.

"I'm only a man, only human, Atiya," he says, looking older than his years. "I feel angry that we should have to be put through this and it's difficult for me to forgive the men who have forced us to live in fear. But it's not for me to say what people deserve. If God can forgive the worst of our sins, then we should at least attempt to do the same for our fellow man."

"I don't believe as you do. In God," Atiya says. "So why shouldn't I hope for justice instead of forgiveness?"

"What sort of world would we live in, otherwise?"

And she thinks-

_What sort of world do we live in now?_

**XXVII.**

It's almost anti-climactic, when they finally come for her.

She has just returned home when Barsad and his men walk through her door.

"Your sister wishes to collect you now. It is time to go," he says with a faint smile.

Atiya looks at the three men who stand behind him. Though they are unarmed, they are big and strong. With great trepidation, she takes a step back.

"You know we won't hurt you-" Barsad begins, noticing her unease, but Atiya cuts him off.

"Then why are there four of you?"

She knows she can't escape. It's not logical for her to turn and run but she does anyway.

_The window_, she thinks. It's only two levels up and if she is lucky, the jump out will cause only a little damage but no major injuries.

"Be gentle with our little sister."

Atiya hears Barsad's warning when she feels arms around her waist, pulling her back before she can reach her bedroom. She turns and kicks, aiming for the areas that her father taught her, and grins viciously when she hears a grunt of pain.

Atiya drops to the floor and scrambles to her room, feeling a burst of energy when she sees freedom only a few short feet ahead of her.

But it isn't meant to be.

It takes two of Barsad's men to hold her down and she feels a sharp pin prick at the side of her neck when she struggles. The world grows blurry around the edges and she sees Barsad's face float before her.

"Such a strong will," he says proudly. "You are a fighter like your sister. Worthy of the blood that flows through your veins."

"Bear." Her tongue feels thick and she doesn't have the strength to lift her arm up to the table. "M'bear."

Barsad looks back and his features soften. "You want the toy that Bane made for you. You must have kept it for years during your travels. My brother will be happy to know it brings you comfort, that you asked for it now."

She closes her eyes and feels herself lifted up. Her head lolls to the side and she feels her thoughts shutting down, one by one by one. Just before she falls into the darkness, she feels the scratch of burlap against her hands and someone bends her fingers inward on a soft, round belly.

_My little bear, _she thinks with relief before she blacks out.

**XXVIII.**

"You'll leave the city first with Nidal and then I'll follow. Then Bane and Barsad and the others will come."

Talia's voice is soft and her hand against Atiya's cheek is warm when she is able to open her eyes again.

Atiya tries to make sense of her surroundings. She is on a bed in a room with simple furnishings. There are no windows. She looks back at Talia, her mind still hazy from whatever she'd been given.

_How long has it been? How long have I been here?_

Talia says, "I know how hard these months have been for you. I know the sacrifices you've made to help those who don't deserve it. They may be children, Atiya, but they are the children of Gotham. They were born stained. We'll rid the world of them so that we may stop the degeneration before it spreads."

_Liar_, Atiya thinks.

Talia's work was never about justice or balance or her father's lofty ideals.

_You only wanted revenge._

"Once we are done with Gotham, it will become a symbol, a warning of what can happen when a city grows rotten. It's hard work but necessary. Bruce's return is a minor inconvenience and we shall deal with him."

Atiya struggles to sit up, to demand answers-

_Bruce's return from where?_

_What did you do to him?_

_Is the bomb live? _

_Is it going off soon? _

-but her eyes grow heavy again and she falls back, feeling herself slip away once more.

"Just a few more hours," Talia says over her. She combs her fingers through her hair as she once did when Atiya was a child. "Everything is taken care of. I've been patient with you, haven't I? Letting you run around with that boy. Allowing you to keep watch over those children. But the time to separate wheat from chaff has come."

Talia shifts slightly and she can hear the smile in her voice, the brash, confident tone that she knows so well. Atiya feels herself drifting back to sleep, even as she struggles to listen to her sister's words

"And afterwards, we will rebuild the League in our image," Talia says as she strokes her hair. "It will be a new age; the shadows will not be able to contain us.

"We shall be the fulfillment of an even grander vision than our father could imagine. Better. Stronger. My hand will be the hand that strikes and yours will be the one that poisons. We will cleanse the entire world, you and I."

Talia's touch is soothing and Atiya curls in on herself, gripping the bear as tightly as she can so she doesn't lose it in her drugged sleep.

It's all she has left.

**XXIX.**

She's not sure if it is a dream when Bane comes to her but the twinge she feels when she sees the sorrow in his eyes is far too real.

_You should have run,_ he says standing over her bed. _I would have helped you had you asked._

She wants to tell him, _I'm tired of running._

She wants to ask, _Would you have come with me?_

-but the words don't come and Bane leaves.

**XXX.**

Atiya wakes to the sound of screaming.

She groans, feeling her head pound and she nearly chokes when she tastes blood in her mouth. For a moment, she lays on her side, disoriented and in pain. The throbbing in her head is sharp and immediate and Atiya fights to stay conscious. It is only through sheer force of will that she keeps her eyes open.

_What happened?_

She tries to sit up and finds that she can't. She panics, struggling to move forward when she realizes that her hands are free but she is strapped into a seat with her side pressed against a hard, metallic surface.

Flashes of memories invade her mind and she winces, pressing her hands to her eyes. She pulls them back when she feels a gash on her brow; her skin is tacky and raw with drying blood.

As she stares at her hands, she thinks-

_Taken from the bed._

_Underground. _

_Talia's voice. Bane's voice._

_Trucks._

She reaches down and fumbles with the seatbelt, remembering that Talia had strapped her in and kissed her cheeks before closing the door.

"_Goodbye, my darling. I'll see you soon."_

_Something went wrong._

Talia meant for her to leave Gotham but Atiya can smell smoke in the air. She is in a truck that has been tipped over and she can hear gunfire and fighting in the distance and screaming, _screaming-_

_Sounds so close._

-when she realizes that the screaming comes from only a few feet away.

A man is in the driver's seat, in agony.

With shaking hands, she tries again to unlock her seatbelt but it is stuck. She's suddenly aware of how tight the strap over her chest is, how difficult it is to breathe.

She looks around, fighting to keep the fear at bay when she sees _it._ Atiya swallows down a sob in relief.

_Little bear,_ _my little bear._

It is a stretch but she manages to reach it with her fingertips. She lifts it up, turning it over before tearing apart the crudely made stitches on its back. Such a harmless thing, her little toy, but deep inside are things that are cold and sharp and deadly.

Atiya pulls out a black vial before pushing it deeper into the bear. She digs, moving aside bits of cloth and yarn, before she finds what she's looking for.

She pulls out two blades, worn but clean.

_I'll only need one this time._

She stops then, feeling her heart beat faster and her stomach lurch, and looks forward.

The screaming has become a gurgle.

Working through the pounding in her head, Atiya carefully slices herself free from the belt and she hisses when her shoulder hits the unyielding ground. She twists around, getting on her hands and knees and curls her fingers around the end of a blade, looking towards the driver's seat.

"Hello?" Her voice is hoarse and she coughs at the effort. Thick, hot blood splatters on the ground and Atiya looks away, sickened by the sight. "Are you hurt?"

It is a silly question but she feels the need to speak over the ghastly sounds of a man in pain.

"Atiya, little sister."

Atiya startles at the sound of her name and she scrambles over the strange geography of the truck to reach him. When she sees the state he is in, she draws in a sharp breath.

_You'll leave the city first with Nidal._

His chest is a ghastly red mess with bits of flesh and bone showing through his ruined shirt. His hands are trapped underneath metal and glass and Atiya can see broken bits of steering wheel amidst the tangle.

Nidal isn't simply in pain, Atiya thinks. He is dying.

And he is dying slowly and with great suffering.

When he sees her though, his eyes grow bright.

"To die at your hand," he says slowly, and she can see the ruined bits of teeth as he speaks, "would be an honor."

A chill runs through her and Atiya shakes her head, even though it makes the throbbing worse. She asks, "Where are we? What happened?"

"Gotham," he says. His eyes fill with tears and his face crumples. "There was an explosion… I was supposed to get you out but I failed."

Atiya falls silent as he weeps. There's a ringing in her ears and she looks out past the cracked windshield to the familiar streets of Gotham. They are empty now, dirty and gray.

_Downtown._

"Your mercy, please."

When he breaths, it is as if a little more of his life slips away but those of the League of Shadows are hard to kill. Atiya knows that while he is in great pain, Nidal's body will continue to fight, to _breathe_, because he has been trained to do so though his mind knows it is futile.

"Forgive me my failure," he pleads. "But give me your mercy."

Atiya stares back at Nidal. She studies him, even as she feels a trickle of blood make its way down her face. More explosions go off nearby but she doesn't move, doesn't look away.

For a long time, she considers him.

_This work is in your blood; you were born to it. Your hands were made for it._

Then she raises the blade-

_Your hands look plenty filthy to me._

-and moves so quickly that Nidal continues to blink even after he is already dead.

Her hands are soiled red.

**XXXI.**

Atiya walks.

She doesn't know where she is going-

_Talia._

_Bane._

-but she knows she is in pain and alone. Her head hurts, her _heart_ hurts, and she moves on unsteady feet down the littered, abandoned streets of Gotham.

In one hand is a bear, torn and gutted at its back, and in the other is a blade.

Though the sounds of fighting are dying down, she heads towards it, not really sure why. Part of her wants to run, to go underground and hide in the shadows again but something inside, in the deepest, darkest depths of her, tells her to find her _family_.

_Talia._

_Bane._

Seconds or minutes or hours later, Atiya sees the wrecked ruins of an armored truck. The back of it is open and empty but something about it seems familiar. She shuffles forward, head throbbing and vision blurred with blood and sweat.

She feels broken and sore and _old._ She wants to sleep and not wake up again and she thinks vaguely that once she finds Talia and Bane, she might just do that. Close her eyes-

_Dante's blades are still sharp._

-and fade away.

Perhaps then, Atiya thinks numbly, she'll find peace. Her sister and the League and John and Father Reilly and the children- they'll be fine without her. They'll survive and carry on and Atiya will finally be able to rest.

_Let Talia have the world to destroy or save._

It's a good plan, she thinks. She's tried so hard to live but she's only known failure, time and time again. She knows now that it is her greatest mistake, to think that she could be _of_ the world, to think that it could offer her happiness if only she sought it out.

Her mother thought her life was a gift; Atiya thinks it's only an error that should have been corrected.

_Soon._

_First, I need to find them. _

It's selfish but she wants to see Talia one last time. To hold her and tell her that she is mad but that Atiya forgives her her madness, her cruelty, because it is in Atiya as well, coursing through her blood as Barsad once said.

She wants to see Bane too. To tell him that it is _he_ who should have had a different life; that she would have chosen to love him first and best, if she could. She wants to tell him to run far away from her sister and the shadows, because _he_ can still escape.

Atiya thinks of all the words she will say as she moves to the front of the truck.

She approaches the open door, reaching out to the side so she doesn't stumble, and looks in.

_Talia._

_Sister._

In the distance, a bright light illuminates the sky and the sound of cheering fills the air.

A wail of complete and utter despair pierces her ears. It is so loud and so full of fury and grief that it brings her to her knees.

It takes her a moment to realize it is coming from her.

**XXXII.**

Atiya has always been angry.

Born in the pit, raised in silence and suffering, and strengthened by loss and pain, her anger has grown greater and more powerful. For years it stirred restlessly inside her, a cold, familiar thing pushed down and rejected and ignored each time it fought for release. But now as she stares down at Bane's wounded body, with his pain-filled eyes staring up at her...

_You must rise._

She does.

**End.**

**Epilogue: Bane. The League of Shadows. Wings of Night. **


	4. Epilogue: Bane

**A/N: **FINALLY. DONE. GAAAAAAH.

I'm not fully satisfied with this ending but I had to get it out. This is always how I meant to end it though, so there's that. I thought of the last line of this story before I posted the first part of Atiya's chapters so all I had to do was work backward. Let me know what you think!

Note that Atiya is different here, not just through Bane's eyes, but in general. I figure you can't go through all the craziness she has and come out completely sane. Hopefully I planted the seeds early enough for this not to come as a major surprise.

**And in the Darkness Bind Them**

**Bane**

**I.**

His name had not always been Bane.

Once he'd been a little boy who liked stories, who found joy in a tale well told. Who played in the forests near his home and taught himself about the stars and the trees and the animals.

He had been a cause of great consternation for his father, who had different ideas about what his only son should have been interested in. Acumen in battle, weapons, combat skills- those were prized over words in his family. There were no scholars, no scientists nor philosophers in his line. He was an anomaly; he was _other. _

His mother had been _other_ too. Softer. More understanding. Her father had chosen her because of her beauty but she'd had a mind of her own. She had been the one who passed Bane books at night in secret. Who had run her fingers through his hair and smiled down at him when he gave her gifts of flower crowns and leaves shaped like birds.

She had been the only one who'd cried when he'd been sentenced to the pit.

He wishes sometimes that his mother had died shortly after. It would be better that she not live to witness the world as it is now.

The world that he helped to create.

**II.**

This is what Bane thinks the first time he sees Talia-

_Fire, burning bright._

The child had been ferocious, angry at whatever forces had left her and her mother amongst such horrors. She needed to be tempered and for a while her mother had been enough to contain her heat_._

She had changed though, once Atiya had been born. The fire had been given direction, a focus.

This is what Bane thinks the first time he meets Atiya-

_Water, to quench the flame._

-and he knows how the once savage girl her sister had been was tamed.

"_You are lucky to have each other." _

Fire and water balanced each other; one tempered the other.

Bane was reminded of this balance, saw what the lack of it could do. In Atiya's absence, Talia had grown too wild, consumed by her own nature and shaped into a weapon by her father even after his death.

And yet Bane understood- water, on its own, could be still and calm. Atiya had left but she would be fine. She could move through the world like a river through the land, ever changeable, ever nimble. This was what Talia could not accept.

Only later would Bane remember something else-

Without heat, water could grow cold, could freeze and become hard.

Become ice_._

**III.**

Atiya's face is the last thing he sees in Gotham.

Behind her, the overcast sky is bleak and menacing but the sounds of cheers, faint in the distance, haunt his ears.

_My heart, _he thinks in that moment,_ my beloved._

He thinks Atiya is radiant against the gloom; she is otherworldly like the angels in the stories his mother had once recited at his bedside.

He wants to reach up, wants to wipe away the tears and blood on her cheeks. He wants to heal the wound at her brow and press his fingers against her downturned mouth. These are mortal concerns after all, mortal wounds, and he has always known that Atiya was beyond him, above them all.

_May you have true freedom at last._

He closes his eyes with the hope that he will not open them again.

**IV. **

If asked, Bane would say he is earth; strong and sturdy.

Yet he could be moved, could be scorched and shaken, changed by the whims of stronger forces.

After all, water could shape stone, could move earth, given time.

**V.**

It takes him two weeks to recover; two months to recover _fully._

His memory of the escape from Gotham is fragmented and unreliable. He remembers Barsad's blood-covered chest on the cot beside him. He remembers the silence that had fallen over the cabin of Talia's private jet, Atiya's toy now, heavy and thick with sorrow and defeat.

He remembers Atiya's profile against a window, her delicate features pale as snow and still as marble.

He isn't sure how she managed to bring them home but he knows that Ra's youngest daughter is resourceful and sharp. She has something of her father's inescapable draw to her and it has little to do with her face. Talia had it once as well and in the weeks that follow, Bane realizes that her sister has begun to cultivate that inherent magnetism that she denied for so long.

Strange doctors see to him during the day. They are all skilled but unfamiliar and they duck their heads in reverence when Atiya enters his quarters though she spares them nothing more than a brief glance.

She studies him mostly, saying little outside of asking a few questions about his health and his wounds, answering none of his own. She takes his mask from him, telling him he must be strong_, _that he must fight against the pain while she repairs it.

Though his mind is addled with near-constant agony, he notices how much she has changed.

The light from her eyes, once kind and gentle, has been replaced by something cold and canny. Something _wrong_.

And yet the chill is a familiar thing. Bane knows that it does not belong on Atiya's face. Not his Atiya, who smiled even in the shadows and remained untouched by her family's madness for so long.

It belonged to her father. It belonged to Talia.

_And now they are dead._

**VI.**

When he is able to stand and walk, when he no longer screams for relief, Atiya comes to him with the mask in her hands.

"You're too dependent on it," she says, watching him fix it over his mouth. "It's never good to become too attached."

The new mask is light yet sturdy and Bane closes his eyes as he feels the familiar cool rush of gas brush over his lips. It enters his lungs and it is as if a weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

The pain recedes_, _disappears completely, and his mind clears.

_"When there's time, I'd like to look at this. I think I can make it better for you if you'd let me."_

"Thank you," he says, opening his eyes. He realizes that she must have been working on the mask for weeks now and truly, it is a much better thing than his old one. The gas itself is odorless and tasteless and he can feel a newfound strength growing in his limbs.

"Thank you," he says again. He forces himself to raise his head and look at her. "I failed you and your sister. You should have left-"

She cuts him off briskly. "You've not yet completely healed but this will do for now. At the very least, you can do without it for half a day. More, if you push yourself."

Her tone is flat and thought there is no anger or condescension that he can detect, her words still sting.

"What of Barsad?" he asks after a silence. He can feel her gaze on him and it is an odd feeling, to have her study him with an almost insectile curiosity.

"What of him?" she says. "His wound was much less severe. He's already started training again."

Her response surprises him and he stares at her, bemused.

"Training for what?"

When Atiya smiles, Bane cannot help but draw back a little.

Though he is weaker than he once was, she is still far smaller than him.

When Atiya smiles, she bares her teeth like a shark.

She moves towards the door but before she leaves she turns to him and says, "We have a new purpose now."

"And what purpose is that?"

But Atiya says nothing. She walks away from him.

Smiling.

**VII.**

Beyond his quarters, Bane finds a new world, a new brotherhood.

They have started recruiting again, from all corners of the world and from all walks of life. The difference now is that they seek out the learned, the educated.

"You should be honored, brother," Barsad tells him days after he finally makes his way out of isolation. He offers Bane the _kama_, his weapon of old, and bows his head. "We will witness a new age. From ashes, we shall see the League rise."

Bane narrows his eyes and grips his weapon but says nothing.

Barsad is sinewy like a wolf, trim but strong; that much has stayed the same. But there is a nearly imperceptible delay in his movements and the addition of more scars over his torso. Bane knows he has been charged with teaching the new members of their fold and already he is culling the weak from the rest as ruthlessly as he once did for Ra's and Talia.

"She is a prophet." Barsad circles him, the placid expression never changing as he begins his attack. Bane can hear his breathing grow heavy- another sign of his injuries. "The world will change because of her vision."

Bane parries and then strikes, nearly catching Barsad with his blade. He holds him in place for a moment, feeling curiosity mixed with alarm at his words.

"And what vision is this?" he asks. "What does she plan?"

Barsad slips away and looks at Bane. Bane recognizes the fire of the fanatic, one that Talia once stroked to a blaze in all of her men.

_Except for me._

He had followed her because it was his duty; Talia was his charge once. He had joined the League to punish those who soiled the air and poisoned the earth with their ways. But he'd never considered himself one of Talia's hopeless, angry men nor one of her father's cold, calculating warriors.

Bane never truly belonged to Ra's or Talia, after all. He served a different master.

"Atiya, the silent," he says softly but Barsad hears him nonetheless. He grins then, his face lighting up with an almost child-like glee. It is joy on his brother's face and it nearly clears the shadows that have settled on his lean features.

Barsad says, "She is silent no more."

**VIII.**

Bane is a watcher of things.

There is little that escapes his notice. Even as a child, he'd been an observer, a wide-eyed witness of everything around him. He'd read voraciously but there was nothing better than _seeing_ events unfold through his own lens, unfiltered by others' views.

He had watched all the long years pass him by when he was in the pit. Watched as brothers and adversaries both lived and died; as a child grew into a woman. He is not a man of deed. Bane understands his own nature is passive; thoughtful. He acts when he has a reason and he knows he has a mind built for strategy but mostly, he prefers to watch.

Now, he watches as men in lab coats enter and exit doors that are closed to his hand. He looks on in silent contemplation as strangers pass through the halls, their footsteps echoing with purpose, their faces grim but alight with the fervor of saints.

"They are the _tabib_," one of his brothers tells him during a meal. "They are the creators of the holy weapon, the _saif_."

_The Doctors._

_The Sword. _

A story begins to form in Bane's mind and it is not one he cares to see through.

One night, he watches from his window as a long procession of those strangers head out into the woods. Some of them carry large bags, big enough to hold a grown man, and in the distance, a large fire burns bright against the dark sky.

At the end of the line, Atiya walks behind them, clothed in a long white robe. She pauses and then looks up at him. The light from the moon illuminates her face and something inside of him twists to see her standing alone against the wilderness.

She smiles at him- that peculiar, predator's smile that does not belong on her face, and turns away to continue walking.

He watches until she disappears from his sight and all he can think is-

_What madness has seized you? _

He thinks he knows and he is afraid of the answer.

**IX.**

The days pass and he grows restless and wary.

The men will not tell him any more than what they've already said and he suspects they've been ordered to stay silent. Barsad tries to placate him but Bane knows that his loyalties have shifted: Atiya has secured his allegiance because she is his beloved's sister.

After all, Talia's blood runs through Atiya's veins.

_The fire still burns._

Despite the isolation he feels, Bane knows he has been elevated. He is _other_ once again but this time, he is a figure of awe and respect instead of disdain. Even the men he has trained with under Ra's hand look upon him in veneration.

He is given the best food, the most freedom, the best spoils from their travels into the world… but no one will answer his questions and there are doors that are still shut against him.

"My sister wanted children," Atiya tells him when he finally comes to see her. "Daughters. She'd already chosen names."

It is a strange thing to say, with no context or reason behind it. She sits on the edge of her bed gazing up at him and Bane feels uncomfortable standing before her.

(The truth is he has always felt uneasy when she is near. His hands are too large, his size too massive for someone so small and exquisite to be safe around him. Atiya has always looked as if she would break if he lays but a finger on her.

Next to her, he is a monstrous thing.)

"Did you know this?" she asks again.

In her hands is the burlap bear he'd made for her a lifetime ago. There is a large tear at its back but she seems not to notice or care as she strokes its ratty little face.

Bane nods once. "Your sister made it no secret what she wished for. She wanted a family."

"No." Atiya's voice is hard, almost stern. "She wanted a legacy. There's a difference."

Bane stills, feeling dread grow in the pit of his stomach. He asks, "What does that have to do with your work now, Atiya? The men speak of your vision but they won't tell me what you plan. I see the doctors, I know you work towards something but-"

"You can leave," she cuts him off. She tilts her head to the side, watching him. "No one will stop you. You can live the rest of your life in peace and comfort. I can grant you that."

Bane's words die on his lips and he takes a step forward, feeling the conversation slip out of his control.

He remembers the day her father cast him out and the long years before Gotham. Atiya left but her presence had lingered, the space where she would have been festering like a wound in her sister's heart, in his own mind.

"Do you want me to go?" he asks brokenly. He kneels before her and looks up at her face. "Is that what you want? Is that why you share nothing with me?"

For a moment, Atiya looks down at him with her cold blue eyes. Then she sighs and shakes her head.

"That's not what I want," she says. "But you deserve a choice, just as you gave me one before. I don't want take another choice from your hands."

Bane feels his eyes burn like he is looking directly into the sun. He takes hold of her hands, lifting them up and carefully wrapping his fingers around her wrists.

The bear lays limp on her lap.

"I choose to stay here."

"Then you should focus on your recovery and nothing else. The men tell you nothing because it's not their place to do so."

"But I am of no use to you like this. I am blind, not knowing the road we tread," he says honestly.

He has come to the crux of the manner. Without knowledge, Bane is nothing. He is worthless to her in his current condition, whatever her cause may be. It is not a state he wishes to be in; it is not a position he would ever choose.

Something in her face softens, the edges of her expression seem to melt and Atiya reaches up to touch the side of his cheek gently. He doesn't relinquish his hold on her; it is the rare moment now when Atiya is alone and even rarer the times when he can touch her. She cloisters herself in her lab, keeping odd hours and even odder company apart from the rest of the men.

"You've helped me more than you know." Atiya runs her fingertips over his mask. "You are essential. But I need you to be patient. Eight weeks. All will be revealed then. Can you wait eight more weeks?"

He nods.

"Good," she says. "I'm glad."

She looks away then, past him, at the window to the world beyond. He can feel a sudden distance between them though he is close enough to see the curve of her lashes and the fine, faint lines at the corner of her eyes.

"I think about it too, sometimes," she says suddenly. Her voice sounds thoughtful and Bane frowns though she cannot see it. His hands tighten on her wrists but she seems not to notice his unease.

"Think about what, Atiya?" he asks.

As he watches, the corners of lips turn up. There's something there in the tilt of her mouth that still troubles his mind though her words should have soothed away his concerns.

"A legacy."

**X.**

He thinks of that long winter in Gotham. About the choice of death or exile, which amounted to the same thing in the eyes of the provisional court that Crane had ruled over.

Men and women were sent over the ice to find justice. Bane remembers their faces, the way their expressions changed, lightened, with each step. The longer they stayed upright, the more they believed in their redemption.

Always, always they were wrong.

The folly of the endeavor was simple: the most treacherous step they took was the one they were most confident in.

No one could predict the strength of the ice that held them up; once past a certain point, most of them believed that it would hold. That if it hadn't broken yet, it was solid all the way. Eventually their weight would break through a thin spot overlooked and the cold waters would drag them down, muffling their screams until-

_Calm._

He knows, as he has always known, that Atiya wasn't the delicate thing that Talia imagined her to be. She'd gone out into the world on her own, survived without any of them to watch over her.

_But…_

Put enough pressure on the ice, step on just the right place, and the cracks would appear.

_Atiya, born of water._

He thinks perhaps the cracks had always been there lurking just underneath the seemingly calm façade- perhaps the fracture was inevitable. Perhaps they had all pushed too hard, too far, too fast and broken what would have held firm if left alone.

Whatever the cause, Bane knows Atiya is broken, lost in the darkness of the mind she'd inherited and the influence she'd fought against for so long.

_A grandfather capable of throwing away his own flesh out of spite._

_A father who razed towns and destroyed cities without remorse._

_A sister bent on revenge against the world._

He never once wondered what it was like for the people who died underneath the ice. He never once wondered what it would be like to try and reach towards freedom, even as the body grew cold and the fight drained out of the limbs.

He thinks now that Atiya never had to wonder.

**XI.**

As asked of him, Bane focuses all his efforts on regaining his former strength. He trains with the men and helps Barsad with the new recruits, all the while watching as strangers arrive at the compound.

Not all of them are doctors. Some of them he can recognize from his past work; some of them are men and women in positions of great power. They all have one thing in common.

_Victims. _

_All have suffered great losses._

They all go to meet with Atiya and they leave with bright eyes and hope, such agonizing _hope_, etched in the deep lines of their faces.

He goes to her and offers to fix the bear that she held so tightly that night, nearly a week ago.

"This can be repaired," he says, picking up the small doll. "Or I can make a new one. You deserve something better. Something whole and new."

He means that Atiya deserves a better life but he cannot find the strength to say the words out loud. Bane wants to comfort her, but he is no longer sure how. He has resigned himself to a lifetime of loneliness but it is a hard thing to see her look so sad and tired.

She takes the bear from his grasp and passes her hand gently over the torn back.

When she raises her head again, he can see a glimmer of the old Atiya, though she is worn with care and heavy with burden. Her eyes are almost black in the flickering light and he can see the shadows underneath.

She says, "No. Leave it."

She says, "Some things are better left broken. Sometimes it's better that way."

**XII.**

Atiya disappears and no matters how hard he tries, he cannot reach past the closed doors of what he now knows are labs.

His brothers grow restive and the doctors are tense and agitated, scurrying like mice in the corridors. Even Barsad seems affected and Bane imagines he can see his own concern reflected in his eyes.

At his wit's end, he grabs one of the doctors in the hall, appearing from the shadows before the startled man. To his credit, the man composes himself quickly enough and stands tall as he looks up at Bane. He is nervous but he doesn't shake or try to slink away.

For that, Bane can respect him, though not by much.

"What has happened to Atiya?" Bane's voice is a near growl, amplified by the mask and his anger. "Where do you keep her?"

The man shakes his head. "You can't go to her. It isn't allowed."

"That is not what I asked."

The man hesitates and then he says slowly, falteringly, "It is the time of the trial. The time of our prophet to wield the _saif_. She would have no other to take her place."

He looks down, troubled, and adds in a small voice, "We must be strong. We must have faith. She will not fall."

Bane feels himself grow cold as he mulls over his words. There are several possibilities, all as horrible and as likely as the other, and he has spent weeks turning over what he's seen, coming to his own conclusions.

If he is right, Atiya's plans are the stuff of nightmares. There would be no stopping the tidal wave she would unleash.

_What have you done to yourself?_

Bane steps aside to let the man pass. There is nothing more to be gleaned from him. To his surprise though, the man looks back at him. There are unshed tears in his eyes and Bane notices the pale strip of skin on his ring finger- a contrast against his tan skin, and the premature lines at his eyes and mouth. He is a young man but it is clear that suffering has caused him to carry years beyond his true age.

"It is a bitter cup she drinks from but in it she carries our hope," he says. "She carries our vengeance. She will not fall."

He walks away then.

Bane stares after him.

**XIII.**

The weeks move slowly. Painfully.

Bane becomes stronger than he has ever been but he feels hollow inside, as if it would take very little effort to break him.

Atiya's quarters stay empty. Every night he walks inside to touch her things, telling himself that the doctors would say if the trial has failed.

_If she has fallen._

He makes sure nothing gathers dust and opens the windows to clean out the air. He doesn't fix the bear but he places it on her covers, propped against the single pillow on her bed. It looks as if it is waiting for its owner, like Bane.

One night he finds a photograph, unframed and wrinkled, shoved behind a space between the wall and her desk. He stares at it for a long time and the feeling that rushes through him is nearly indescribable. Rage and doubt overpower him but he does nothing but stand still, staring down at the piece of a life he was never, _would never_ be a part of.

He has never seen her smile so large, so carefree and the man at her side looks on her with a mix of awe and adoration. He is dark haired and dark eyed, so much like Dante and yet nothing like him at all.

Bane knows his face. He knows the uniform.

_GCPD._

Bane puts the photograph back behind the desk.

He wishes, not for the first time, that Atiya had run when he'd told her to.

"_You should have had a different life. You still can. There is still time for you."_

Bane hopes but does not believe that it is not too late.

**XIV.**

One night, Bane finds Atiya standing in the middle of her quarters.

She is nearly emaciated, dressed in a simple nightgown that looks two or three sizes too big for her. She looks like a ghost or a wraith. She looks like someone who has been through a great illness, which is likely the truth as Bane presumes it be.

_She has passed the trial._

A few days ago, he'd noticed that the doctors were less anxious and a general sense of relief had trickled down to the rest of them. But only now, seeing her whole and alive, can Bane feel any semblance of relief.

"You've been patient," Atiya says softly, and her voice is hoarse and barely above a whisper. "Much more patient than I expected you to be. Thank you."

"Do the doctors know you're here?" he asks. "Should you be away from them?"

Atiya smiles faintly. "They answer to me, my friend. Not the other way a-"

She stops speaking and sways on her feet and before he can think, Bane is through the doorway and holding her up against his chest. She feels like paper in his arms and she moves with shaky, fawn-like movements as he guides her to her bed.

"At the end of the week, I'll speak to the men," Atiya says, moving slowly as if to do so hurts. She brings up her knees, knobby and stick-thin, as Bane pulls the blankets over her. He wonders if she has a lingering fever- her skin is hot and dry to the touch. "Be there with me. All your questions will be answered as I promised. Our true work will begin then."

"Whatever it is you do, it cannot be worth this," Bane says. He touches her face and traces the hollow of her cheek where it comes in sharply towards her jaw. "Your life is far more precious."

"You'd have me give up my family's work," Atiya says. She is so pale that Bane can see the blue lines of her veins on her eyelids. "There's no one left."

"You are not your sister," Bane says firmly. "Nor are you your father. They never would have wanted you to carry the mantle after them."

He takes in a deep breath to fortify himself and then speaks his thoughts out loud for the first time.

"They failed, Atiya. Not because of lack of effort or will, or intelligence or wealth. They died in their work- so unmovable were they in their conviction that they died for it. It is a noble thing that they tried, but it does not mean you have to follow after their failure. Leave the League to those who have no hope left, whose lives are irreparable."

Atiya laughs weakly and Bane feels as if she is laughing at him.

"I know I'm not like them," she says. "Do you know why they failed? Do you know where they went wrong and where I'll succeed?"

"Atiya, don't."

"They failed," she says, "because they cared too much. Everything they did was personal. Emotional. They thought they were saving the world."

Her eyes close but the smile lingers. She looks almost peaceful, as if she expects to have good dreams that night. Bane looks down at her and sees a trail of needle tracks running down her arm.

"I won't make that mistake. You have nothing to worry about."

**XV.**

For the rest of that week, Atiya eats with the men again, taking her place where her father and Talia sat before her. She is still horribly gaunt and Bane sits at her side, making sure that she finishes her food at each meal.

She gives everyone dazzling smiles and her eyes seem to shine like jewels. There is a sense of celebration in the air and everyone works harder, fights harder, as if rejuvenated simply by the sight of her amongst them.

Bane rounds the corner one day and finds Atiya speaking in low tones to a young woman. Her hand is on her shoulder and her mouth is at her ear but Bane can hear Atiya's words in the empty hallway.

"I believe in you, Stacia," she says smoothly. "You've had such a hard life but you are a survivor, like me, like all of us. Use your grief. Turn your sadness, your loss, into power. You're so strong now, never forget that. Never forget that with your _family _you are even stronger."

She looks up at Bane but does not acknowledge him. Instead she leans forward and squeezes the woman's shoulder. "You'll never be alone again. I promise you this."

That night Atiya comes to him, smiling her sweet smiles and touching him with feather light caresses that make him shiver, make him _want._

There is purpose in her hands and he is not ignorant to what they mean.

He tries to turn her away, to reason with her, because he is afraid that she thinks this is his due. Bane knows he is a beast but he can try to be honorable, at least for her.

"You owe me nothing," he says, as she pushes him back against his bed. Her thighs straddle his hips and he reaches up instinctively to steady her. "Atiya, this isn't… You should have better. You deserve better. You can have any-"

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't want this," she says. She touches his face, tracing the skin beside the straps of his mask. "Don't you think I should have a say in what I deserve?"

"Of course," he says. "But-"

She leans back and stares down at him with her hands on his bare chest. "Say no. Tell me you don't want me. I'll leave. I won't come back."

Her words are said gently, kindly and they rip into his heart like shards of ice.

He is a beast but he is also only a man.

"I want…" His voice falters. He wants everything she offers but he is so afraid. "I want."

It is the truth. It is the only thing he can say.

Atiya removes his mask and his hands are clumsy when he tries to stop her. He looks away, unwilling to meet her eyes when he is freed.

"So shy," she murmurs over him. "You were always so shy."

She makes him look up at her, even when she grits her teeth and digs her nails into his shoulders as she presses down, down, _down_. He tries to be gentle, tries not to hurt her but he is too big and he knows she finds no pleasure that first time.

_And yet-_

She is fearless with him and as the night continues, she finds release with him, over and over again. It is everything he's ever wanted, more than what he imagined he could have and in the morning, when he feels her soft and steady breath over his chest and her sticky thighs pressed against his own, he allows himself a moment of happiness.

**XVI.**

She stands at the throne that day and when she speaks, the men and women who listen are held captive by her words and by the passion behind them.

Atiya speaks, and the world holds its breath; listens.

_"You'll find your words someday. They will flow from you like a river."_

And Bane thinks, with growing panic, that he'd been right all along.

**XVII.**

"_My brothers, my sisters, I can feel your sadness._

"_I can feel your anger. Your grief. Your rage. I can feel all of it because it is my own. I have lost as you have lost. Your tears are mine, as much as mine are yours. All my heartbroken brethren- so weary and tired. Yet all of you, every single one of you, are still so strong. You must believe that. You must know that. Despite all the world has done to you, taken from you, you are all above the world._

"_We, who have lived in the shadows, who are of the shadows- for so long we have watched as wickedness grows, as it threatens to overtake what little good still exists. So many of our brothers and sisters have given their lives for a world that is no longer worthy of such protection, of such devotion. _

"_Men abandon their families for the sake of their own comfort. Women steal from the mouths of defenseless children. Those who swore to defend the weak, take from them because of fear and greed._

"_Enough is enough, my brethren! It is time for us to cull the evil. We will show this world no more mercy. It is our righteous calling, our destiny to bring forth not justice but judgment, not just in one town or city or country but to every living soul!"_

"_My father brought forth war- the rider of the red horse, the avenging hand against those who would spill the blood of the innocent without cause._

"_My sister held forth the scales and found no balance between those who could feed and those who were hungry and thus she rode forth on the black horse and brought famine. _

"_They paved the way, they laid down the road so that we, all of us, could be brought here now to this moment, to the end of the old world and the beginning of a new one. _

"_I will be the last, the white horseman, the bringer of Conquest, the bearer of Pestilence. Nations will fall before me and be crushed under my heel. The rivers will run red with blood and black with disease. _

"_And at my side I'll have you. All of you. My pale horsemen, who shall carry the holy weapon. _

"_You will bring death, you will be Death, for you have ridden at my father's side, at my sister's side and now with me. I will lead you to the end, to a new beginning. _

"_My brethren, my beloved, stay with me. Take up your swords and help me bring forth the final cleansing. _

"_This is your calling, this is your purpose!"_

**XVIII.**

"This is madness!"

Atiya shuts the door behind them but Bane cannot wait a moment longer. He realizes his voice is a roar but the stone walls of the assembly room will contain him. He paces back and forth, knowing that Barsad and Atiya stand motionless, watching him.

The people outside are rejoicing, still affected by her pretty little speech.

_She's manipulated all of them. _

_All of us._

"On the contrary," Atiya says calmly, "it's quite well planned out. My sister's network reached almost every part of the world and I've people placed at every health organization, on every continent. We have all the wealth and resources we could possibly need. We have our weapon, we have the vaccine and we have the cure. I've tested it myself, as you've probably already guessed."

Bane knows that she's sidestepped his point: that her plan is pure insanity.

_Biological weapons._

_The destruction of everything._

"Our purpose is not to destroy the world," Bane says angrily. "We are here to save it! To protect those who-"

"Can't protect themselves?" Atiya cuts him off, shaking her head. "It's not that simple anymore. Every city is tainted now, every village, every town. There is no place, save here, that offers any sort of protection for the weak."

"So you mean to simply kill everyone? To take the lives of every person, good or bad, strong or weak? You used to mourn the death of a sparrow, how can you do this now?"

Atiya's face shutters. She straightens and looks at him with a flat, icy stare. Bane realizes at that moment that _this_ is what she has become, this is her true face now, wiped clean of warmth, removed from feeling.

"_They failed because they cared too much."_

He understands now what she meant and he is struck momentarily mute.

_We've done this,_ he thinks in horror, _all the cruelty she's experienced, all the pain we've inflicted on her, this is what has come as a result._

Atiya says, "I was born amongst monsters, Bane. I was raised in darkness. I thought once that all the ills of the world were contained in the pit, that all life was precious but I was wrong. There are so few who live untainted in the light. The monsters walk around us. There is no one place that we can cleanse. No one city that will stand as a symbol for redemption or change."

"And what of the children?" Bane pushes on. "You'll leave thousands of them, millions of children, orphans. Alone and defenseless."

"Suffer the little children to come unto me." Her tone is mocking. "I thought I mentioned the vaccine. We determine who lives and who dies. Most will die but there are those who will be designated the caretakers. They will be protected against our weapon, as will the children."

"You cannot reach every single child," Bane says, "it is unthinkable."

"And I've accepted that," Atiya responds with a shrug. "But the disease is airborne. It will last the optimal amount of time to move quickly among populations. Once the effects of the disease are seen, the vaccine will be disseminated- everyone will want it but not everyone will receive it."

Atiya smiles, cold and cruel. She glances back at Barsad, who looks for all the world like a proud father.

_He's known about this all along._

_He's encouraged it._

"People will seek protection but find only death in a needle." Atiya lets out a soft breath. "By our calculations, the world's population will be cut in half in a little less than two years. Then our brethren can do the work my father and his before and so on began. And this time, our efforts will have a real impact."

"The infrastructure of each country will fall- what world do you think will be left behind?" he asks. "You saw what happened in Gotham. There will be riots, people will turn on each other, they-"

"So much the better for us then, that they deal with one another. But like I said before, our people are in positions of power. This is what they work towards and they will move up as the world tumbles down, so that they may rebuild it into a better one."

Atiya raises her hand. "But enough- arguing with me won't stop what has already been placed in motion. I gave you a choice before and I'll give it you now. You can leave this place, if what I do and who I am is repugnant to you. I've already given you the vaccine in the gas you breathe. You were the first to be protected once it was finished."

Bane starts at this and reaches up to touch his mask.

Atiya continues speaking. "If you go, you'll be safe. But you'll not see me again."

For a moment, Bane falters. He wants to run from her, to leave her to her folly but in his heart… In his heart, he knows that Atiya needs him now more than ever.

_She will need an anchor. _

"We need you to lead our men." Barsad speaks for the first time and Atiya nods at his words. "They need a commander, someone who can execute our plans with grace and strength. I will stand by you, brother, as I have always done. But only if you choose to stay."

"What choice is this," Bane asks, shaking his head, "between seeking the end of all we know at the hands of the only woman I have ever loved, and to live in safety and ignorance, alone?"

Atiya stares at him blankly.

"At least it's a choice."

**XIX.**

Later, when they are alone in his quarters Bane asks, "Did you mean it? Did you believe those words you said?"

Atiya is pale and fragile, her skin soft and smooth as she removes her robes. He could reach out and break her neck with barely an effort. He could cover her full, pink mouth with one hand and steal the breath from her body. He could throw her across the room so that her head would snap back against the corner of a table.

He could do all of these things and yet none of them. He would take his own life before he laid a finger on her and yet he is afraid of her now, as much as he is afraid for her.

"Does it matter?" she asks. The robe slips off her bare shoulders and slides down to the floor at her feet.

"They believed it. They believe you."

"And they should."

She walks towards him and he wills himself not to react. Soon, his resolve will crumble and his strength will fail again at the touch of her hand, but for as long as he can, he will not move.

"I didn't lie to them. I'll give them everything I said I would. What does it matter what I believe then?"

"Because I want to know. It matters to me."

"Then find your comfort there," Atiya says as she moves over him. "After all, you were the one who showed me the power of stories. You were the one who taught me that words could change everything. I only gave them what they needed."

"You gave them a mythology."

She shrugs and her hair falls over her shoulder as he watches. He reaches up, unable to stop himself and she laughs softly.

"I only gave them what they needed."

After that, there are no more words.

**XX. **

When Barsad returns after months of surveillance, Bane goes to Atiya's work room and announces, "Barsad has come to see you."

Atiya looks up from her desk and sits up, stretching her back as she turns to face him. Bane smiles to see her though it stays hidden under his mask.

Nevertheless, he knows she can tell.

"Good," she says, leaning back with a tired sigh. "Send him in, if you will."

He looks behind him and gestures for his brother to join them, stepping into the room to stand beside Atiya.

When Barsad enters, he freezes. And then he laughs, full and loud.

Atiya scowls and Bane rubs the space between her shoulders as a gesture of comfort. He knows she is sensitive about her current state; not so much about her appearance, for Atiya was never a vain creature, but she dislikes feeling ungainly, out of breath at the slightest exertion.

"I meant no disrespect, little sister," Barsad says with one hand held up in surrender. "Only, it has been quite a bit of time since I last saw you."

Atiya rubs the top of her belly even as she glares at Barsad. The effect of it is lessened though, with her fuller face and rounded curves. At six months, Atiya's small frame shows her pregnancy clearly and the doctors have told her that constant rest was needed due to the past hardships she'd endured.

Bane knows, without the doctors having said a word, they are watching the baby closely for any signs of the _saif_. So far, their child is healthy, although small.

Still, despite the fear he feels, Bane cannot help but feel pride each time he looks upon his Atiya. And it is no small claim that he can now call her his; after all, it is his child she carries.

"Ah, I've hurt your feelings," Barsad says soothingly. "Believe me when I say I am sorry- you are as beautiful as ever. Even more radiant. It is only out of joy I laugh so."

"She knows," Bane says. He feels Atiya exhale and her body relaxes against him. Her pregnancy has dulled her edges, thawed the ice a bit but she is still far from the warm, soft girl she was before. Only out of necessity does she yield to Bane and he knows she is still struggling with the decrease in her activity. She is no longer allowed in the lab and it has made her restless and irritable not to see things firsthand.

"Do you know yet?" Barsad asks him, gesturing vaguely and Bane looks down at her, the question in his eyes.

"A boy," Atiya answers for them. A genuine smile flits over her lips. "A son."

"Congratulations," Barsad says sincerely, though there is a trace of wistfulness in his tone.

"Thank you," Atiya allows graciously. She points at the folder in his hand. "You have information for me, I take it."

Barsad's face becomes serious and he nods. He hands her the folder and she begins to scan the pages inside immediately. It takes a great amount of will for Bane not to comment, though he feels a wave of jealousy course through him.

He had argued with her about the endeavor, of course- Gotham had been her father's downfall and her sister's obsession. The city and those who lived within were a curse to her line and Bane was unwilling to allow her to fall prey to it as her family had done. There were rumors, she'd told him, that needed to be followed up on. There were tales of a masked vigilante and she had to be sure, _she could not rest_, until she knew the truth.

_The bodies of my family lie there, _she'd said, _I am tied to that place as they are._

Barsad had volunteered to go. Bane knew his brother felt a deep hatred for Gotham and so he could not speak against the man's journey. Atiya had promised him that he could see to Gotham personally as long as he gathered information for her first. It was a gift to her sister's lover, to their child's future godfather.

"Tell me, Barsad," Atiya says, not looking up, "did you find what we seek?"

"It is not the Batman," Barsad says. They had assumed that someone had picked up the cowl after Wayne's death but it seemed that was not the case. "Though it is a man. He wears a different suit though he uses many of Batman's old tools and he is smaller. He moves differently as well, more agile."

Atiya makes a small, thoughtful sound. She looks up at Bane and he tilts his head to the side. He says, "Wayne may have passed the responsibility onto a successor before his sacrifice. He had the time between his return and his death to do so. And Fox could easily have assumed his former role, crafting similar instruments for the man."

"Do we know who he is?" Atiya asks Barsad, placing the folder aside on the workbench. "Does he have a name?"

"I was not able to find his identity," Barsad said with a deep frown, "but he has taken a title. It seems the papers have taken to him as well. He is referred to as Nightwing."

Shock fills Atiya's features and her eyes seem to grow dark. For a moment, she says nothing, even as Bane says her name. He worries for a moment that she's felt something inside, something wrong, but then she stirs and looks away into the distance.

"Well, well," she says finally. Her voice is faint but she smiles, sharp and bright like the edge of a knife.

It reminds Bane of a frozen lake and of cracks that lay waiting to pull people towards their death.

"He calls himself Nightwing. How sweet."

**The End.**

**Please read and review- thanks!**


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